On a busy street in New York City, a man hustles across an intersection and is just about makes it to the other side when he’s hit by a bus.
He lies dying on the sidewalk as a crowd gathers around.
“A priest somebody get me a priest!” the man gasps.
“A priest, please!” repeats the dying man.
Then out of the crowd steps a little old Jewish man of at least 80 years.
“Mr Policeman,” says the man, “I’m not a priest.
I’m not even a Catholic.
But for 50 years now I’ve been living behind.
Elizabeth’s Catholic Church on First Avenue, and every night I listen to the Catholic litany.
Maybe I can be of some comfort to this man.”
The policeman agrees and brings the gentleman over to where the dying man is lying.