I took a long drag on a cigarette one morning as I walked the wooded path toward my tiny cabin deep in the forest of the Bruce Peninsula, about two and a half hours north of Toronto, Ontario. I know, I know. Smoking is bad for you, dangerous and unhealthy.
I had tried to kick the habit, prayed about it too, but I couldn’t. Not even when my beloved Aunt Bernie got lung cancer. How many times had she begged me to quit? After she died, I vowed to stop, and did briefly, but inevitably I had started up again.
The cabin had been one of Aunt Bernie’s favorite places to stay. Lately, I had earned some extra income by renting it out to folks who were visiting nearby Lake Huron. New renters were due to arrive that afternoon. The cabin has no electricity, so I had to make sure there was enough propane in the tank to run the fridge and the stove for the weekend.
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Seeing the cabin in the distance through the trees, I thought about my aunt. I could still hear her voice telling me, “Quit smoking; it’ll kill you.” Nearing the cabin, the voice grew stronger. “Quit smoking! It’ll kill you!” I heard, as loud as if my aunt were standing right beside me. Finally, I couldn’t ignore it any longer.
I froze in my tracks and dropped the cigarette. Smothered it with my shoe. “Fine, Auntie, I put it out. See?”
I continued down the path, resisting the urge to light up again. Reaching the cabin, I opened the door. Whoa! I stepped back and wrinkled my nose. The odor was strong, and unmistakable. Propane fumes. So thick I could see the air shimmer inside the cabin.
I ran around to the back and found the problem. The previous renters had forgotten to turn off the propane tank before they left. The cabin had been filling with gas for a week!
If I had still been smoking that cigarette… I thought now, horrified.
My aunt Bernie was right. Smoking can kill. But it won’t kill me. The next day I started a quit-smoking program, and I haven’t lit up since. How could I ignore those strong words, spoken to me in a familiar voice I was allowed to hear at just the right moment?
