Later, when he arrived at heaven’s gates, God answered as an old white-bearded man.

"Welcome," God said. "You’ve been good; come into the joys of heaven." But as the old man started through the gate, God said, "Please. You must let the soil go." "Never!" said the old man stepping back. "Never!"

God departed sadly, leaving the man at the gate. A few eons went by, and God came out again, this time as an old friend. They had a few drinks, told some stories, and God said, "All right, now it’s time to enter, friend. Let’s go." As they started for the gate, God once more requested the old man let go of his soil, and once more he refused.

More eons rolled by. God emerged again, this time as a delightful and playful granddaughter. "Oh granddaddy," God said, "you’re so wonderful, and we all miss you. Please come inside with me."

The old man nodded, and she helped him up for by this time he had grown old and arthritic. In fact, so arthritic was he that he had to prop up the right hand holding Crete’s soil with his left. As they moved toward the gate, his strength gave out. His gnarled fingers could not longer stay clenched, and the soil sifted out until his hand was empty.

He then entered heaven, and the first thing he saw was his beloved island.