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Clutching the gourd, Macario runs back to life, runs on to fame, to wealth, to power. All the things he never had, the gift of healing gives him. But in his noon of glory he is suddenly struck down; and in the darkling and poetic end of all, he learns that the paths of glory lead to the same lowly grave he would in any case have lain in. Yet it might have been otherwise. "Macario," Death says sadly, "you misunderstood the gift." He misunderstood the gift of life—the turkey, which is meant to be shared with other men. He misunderstood the gift of spirit—the water, which heals where God wills and is not meant for any man's profit.