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Finis  In April 1988, I spoke to the Conference of National Health Care Professionals on the topic of ‘‘Vulnerability, Dignity or Despair.’’ At the end of my presentation, I told the ‘‘Cigar Man Story.’’ More than a year later, I received a letter from a psychiatrist in Baltimore. She wrote of being moved by the story, although she felt that the deeper meaning eluded her at the time. She then recounted a recent experience which brought back the ‘‘Cigar Man Story’’ with both personal force and equivalent clarity. I call this event, on her behalf, the ‘‘Napkin Story.’’ The Napkin Story Quite regularly our psychiatrist would participate in celebratory occasions for the less fortunate, the egregiously lonesome and the geriatrically disabled. The occasion in question was a birthday party, featuring a luscious and well-appointed chocolate cake, festooned with candles representing many, many decades of life. A good time was had by all. As the psychiatrist was leaving, the women chimed in unison, ‘‘Thank you for the cake.’’ As the door was about to close, still another voice was heard, one that was jagged and struggling. It came from a very aged woman, off to the side, with gnarled limbs and severely crumpled posture, cronish-like. She raised her arthritic finger and said, ‘‘Forget the cake, thank you for the napkins.’’ I offer my hope that these essays have provided my readers with a napkin along the ‘‘way.’’ {  } ...

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