I too am fascinated by the mystery of death and what comes after, and this is a poignant and thought-provoking story — I think it says something very much to your credit that your neice's final words were to you (whether or not that's what she intended). The other comments here are fascinating too. While I agre that a lot of damage is done under the umbrella of religion, that could be said of any human institution. I'm a bit flummoxed by those who seem to be offended that other people choose faith — just as I don't buy the idea that because your niece expressed some fear at the end as proof that her faith was useless or that it provided her with nothing of value. If we're concious while we're dying, it makes total sense to me that part of us will feel fear, at least to begin with. I felt fearful when I went into labor for the first time too — not because I was afraid of pain, but because I knew in every fiber of my being that I was on the precipice of immense change and a complete alteration. It was an end to one phase of my existence, and ushered in the joyful beginning of another one.