The following is a poem from my lovely cousin – she’s a social worker!
A woman knocked at the heavenly gate,
Her face was scarred and old.
She stood before the Man of Fate
For admission to the fold.
“What have you done,” Saint Peter asked,
“To gain admission here?”
“I’ve been a social worker, sir,
For many and many a year.”
The pearly gates swung open wide.
Saint Peter touched the bell.
“Come in and choose your harp,” he said.
“You’ve had your share of hell.”
