Christian fiction; Future life -- Fiction; Spiritualism -- Fiction
But when, thus turning, I would have told him so, for there seemed to be
no poor pride in Heaven, forbidding soul to tell the truth to
soul,--when I turned, my friend had risen, and was departing from me, as
swiftly and mysteriously as he came. I did not cry out to him to stay,
for I felt ashamed; nor did I tell him how he had bereft me, for that
seemed a childish folly. I think I only stood and looked at him.
“If there is any way of being worthy of your friendship,” I said below
my breath, “I will have it, if I toil for half Eternity to get it.”
Now, though these words were scarcely articulate, I think he heard them,
and turning, with a smile which will haunt my dreams and stir my deeds
as long as I shall live, he laid his hand upon my head, and blessed
me--but what he said I shall tell no man--and so departed from me, and I
was left upon the shore alone, fallen, I think, in a kind of sleep or
swoon.
When I awoke, I was greatly calmed and strengthened, but disinclined, at
first, to move. I had the reaction from what I knew was the intensest
experience of my life, and it took time to adjust my feelings to my
thoughts.
A young girl came up while I sat there upon the sands, and employed
herself in gathering certain marvelous weeds that the sea had tossed up.
These weeds fed upon the air, as they had upon the water, remaining
fresh upon the girl’s garments, which she decorated with them. She did
not address me, but strolled up and down silently. Presently, feeling
moved by the assurance of congeniality that one detects so much more
quickly in Heaven than on earth, I said to the young girl:--
“Can you tell me the name of the angel--you must have met him--who has
but just left me, and with whom I have been conversing?”
“Do you then truly not know?” she asked, shading her eyes with her hand,
and looking off in the direction my friend had taken; then back again,
with a fine, compassionate surprise at me.
“Indeed I know not.”
“That was the Master who spoke with you.”
“What did you _say_?”
“That was our Lord Himself.”
VIII.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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