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A Soft Reckoning |
| Written by Harald Kasper | |
| Tuesday, 20 March 2007 | |
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Share it:      ‘Interesting’, he thought. He didn’t quite know where he was and how he got there, yet somehow he wasn’t anxious about the disorientation, either. And although he didn’t have full-blown amnesia, he was having some difficulty recalling details and events of his life. The room he was in was lit with a soft light that didn’t appear to be natural and, yet, it was ever so soothing to the eye. And it came from no apparent source. As he turned his head to get the full scope of the room, he was surprised to discover he was inside an oval-shaped dwelling. And, as he looked down, he was taken a bit aback by the fact that he was completely naked and the chair he was sitting in was suspended in midair. Then he noticed that the color of the inner wall was a shade of white he had never before seen and he chuckled to himself, thinking, ‘Am I inside an egg?’ He knew he should be feeling a sense of panic and anxiety at finding himself so exposed in a completely foreign environment, but the inner sense of peace he felt prevented him from doing anything but smile. It was then that he noticed his hand resting on the armrest. His skin was so smooth. No liver spots or wrinkles and there were no veins visible. He moved his fingers to make sure he was there and then he lifted his hand to feel his face. ‘Oh my’, he thought. His face was as smooth as his hand; there wasn’t a hint of stubble on his chin. He ran his hand across his chest and over his other arm. ‘What is going on?’ he wondered. Then he brought his hand back to his chest and waited. Nothing. No heartbeat. He rechecked and then felt the spot on his neck where his jugular vein should be noticeably working. Still nothing. ‘I should be afraid,’ he thought, but fear, too, was noticeably absent.
“Where am I?” he said aloud and the sound of his own voice sounded so alien. Perhaps it was the voice he once had as a young man, but he didn’t think so – it was much too pleasant sounding. 'I must be in Heaven’, he thought. ‘Yes, that’s it; it has to be’. He spoke aloud again. “Hello?” he said. “Can anyone hear me?” “Hello, Harry.” It was a gentle response. The voice came from nowhere in particular and yet it filled the room. It wasn’t male and it wasn’t female, but neither was it impersonal. “Where are you?” he asked the voice. “I am in the Light,” answered the voice. “Are you God?” “No, Harry,” said the voice. “That’s a pleasure yet to come. Also, your beloved wife, Bess, awaits you, too.” The heart he couldn’t feel beating nonetheless leaped for joy. The thought of seeing his wife again in eternal contentment caused him to relax in a way he had never known. “Then this must be Heaven,” he said. “Not yet, Harry, but soon what you call ‘Heaven’ will be your eternal home.” “Am I in a kind of purgatory?” he asked. “There’s no such thing, Harry. Light doesn’t require penance, just awareness. You are merely in a passageway.” “For what?” he asked. “Well, you’re not quite awake yet, Harry. We want to make this transition as comfortable as possible.” “I’m ready,” he said. “I’ve been ready all my life.” “We know you belong in the Light, Harry, but once you become fully awake, you may not believe you belong. We want to persuade you otherwise.” “I’m ready,” he repeated. “Honestly.” “Yes, Harry, but we haven’t given you back all your memories yet, and before we do, we want you to meet some people.” “Meet some people?” “Yes, people who want to greet you with love.” “But won’t I get that in Heaven?” “Yes, but this will make the Light’s love that much more apparent and easier to accept.” He was confused. “Who are these people? Where are they? And how long will this take?” “There is no such thing as time anymore, Harry. Look to your right and look to your left.” He turned to his right and saw a doorway where there was none before. And then he turned to his left and saw another doorway. Then he saw an illuminated swath of golden light in front of his chair that went from one door to another. “Are you ready, Harry?” said the voice. “Yes,’ he said. “I want to move on.” “You will. I’ll be back soon.” “Wait,” he said. Then he noticed the woman in the kimono. She came in on the doorway to the left, walked up to him and smiled. The first thing Harry noticed was how the bright colors of her attire seemed to explode life into the sterile environment. “ Welcome,” she said, holding out her hand. “We finally get to meet.” Her sincerity was apparent and her eyes revealed a genuine affection for Harry, even though he had never met her before. He took her hand and noticed his wrinkles and liver spots had returned. He looked down at himself and saw he was in a gray flannel suit. After he let go of her hand and watched her leave through the other doorway, he felt his face and was somewhat taken aback when he felt the glasses and wrinkles. “What is going on?” he asked aloud. A little boy came into the oval and walked up to him. “Hello, Mr. Truman. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He wore knickers and a bright red scarf hung over his white shirt. And he had a big grin that seemed to go from ear to ear. ‘What a wonderful little child’, he thought. “And a pleasure to meet you, too. Where did you learn to speak English so well?” The little boy giggled. “There is only one language here, Mr. Truman, and we all speak it. Bye.” He watched the boy skip out the door and waved, “Bye-bye.” “Hello, Harry.” The old man now standing before him had a long gray goatee. He held a tall wooden walking stick in his hand and his black robe had a bright green dragon embroidered upon it. His deep-set brown eyes conveyed a timeless wisdom. “Be at peace,” he said, bowing, and then he moved on. “You, too,” Harry said, bowing back. Then he saw thirty young teenage girls standing in front of him. “We are all from Middle School Class 7and we are here to welcome you, Mr. Truman,” they said in unison. Then they all bowed. Their contagious smiles infected Harry. “Well, thank you. Thank you very much.” He bowed back, but when he looked up they were gone. A baby in a carriage being pushed by a woman replaced them. “So nice to see you, Harry,” said the woman, who also carried a yellow umbrella that radiated throughout the oval. It was almost as if the sun had returned. “Likewise,” he said. “Is it a boy or a girl?” “She is my only daughter. Her name is Mariko.” “Well hello there, little Mariko,” he said, reaching over and tickled the adorable baby, who let out a small chuckle. “She’s beautiful.” The woman bowed. “Thank you.” He returned the bow and looked up. A man. And then a woman. Couples and entire families. Children. More children. Babies. Old men, old women. Soldiers. Teachers. More school classes of every grade. University students. Street sweepers and shopkeepers. On and on the procession went. They were dressed in traditional clothes, so bright that the colors seem to linger in the oval. And they were dressed in modern suits and dresses. Many wore the uniforms of school children or soldiers or civil and civic workers. And every face was warm and intimate, every greeting friendly and sincere. He didn’t tire at all from the endless procession. Everyone was so caring and giving. He would even add, loving. As one moved on, Harry anticipated the next person or group. 'If this is a hint of Heaven, then it is more than I expected,’ he thought. Thousands passed by. It must have been ten thousand at least. Then twenty. Thirty. Forty thousand people. He started wondering if everyone else in Heaven was Asian as another twenty thousand passed by. But he wasn’t getting weary. No, not at all. On the contrary. Each life greeting him seemed somehow to add to his own life. He felt like he was just getting started when the man in a white doctor’s frock standing before him spoke. Suddenly all the lingering colors left the oval. “I am last in this line, Harry. I am so pleased to finally meet you. We all deserve this final peace, do we not? Welcome, my friend.” He took his extended hand and shook it. He didn’t notice the man leaving because he was preoccupied with his arm. The suit was gone again and his skin returned to its’ smooth condition. He felt his face and the glasses and wrinkles were also gone. “Harry?” It was the voice that had filled the room earlier. He looked around and the doorways were gone, as was the golden pathway in front of him. “Wow, what nice people,” he said. “So kind and giving.” “Yes, Harry, but then that is the way it will be from now on.” “You mean I’m ready for Heaven?” "Yes, Harry. There’s just one more thing.” ‘Oh no’, he thought. ‘What now?’ “You’ve been allowed a selective memory up to this point. To move on we must give you back your complete memory, but we don’t want you to be shocked. That is why all those people greeted you with so much love. Let that love insulate you as your memories come back. Understand?” “Not really,” he said. “You must know who you were to become that which you are, Harry. The logic and reasoning of life on earth have no place here. There is no judgment here, only reunion with a loving Creator. Are you ready?” “Yes, I think so,” he said. “Close your eyes and remember the love of all those who greeted you.” He closed his eyes and the flood of memories rushed in. The years in Kansas with the corrupt backroom political deal makers. His time in the Senate and as Vice-President. Roosevelt’s death and his own ascendancy to the Presidency. Some memories of some of his political compromises made him cringe and others instilled a sense of satisfaction. Then he recalled the decision to drop the bomb and he recoiled in horror. “OH NO!” he yelled. “Those people – who were they?” “You know who they were, Harry, as you now know who they are.” He could only say one word. “HIROSHIMA!” And he started weeping uncontrollably. “Harry?” But he could not stop crying. All the images of all the faces he had just met drove his tears on and on, particularly all the thousands of children and babies. “I was doing what I thought was right,” he muttered. “We know, Harry. Just know that those are God’s tears you are crying. Do you understand? You now see through a glass clearly.” “I can’t continue on,” he said. “Not after this.” “Harry, the intentions of your heart have always been towards God. Had it not been so, you would have already been in eternal darkness. Look up, Harry. All is well. You’re in a place now where the rules are different. You are in the Light.” He wiped the tears and opened his eyes. The chair was gone, as was the oval. He was now standing, trying to focus his eyes through the mist. That was when he saw her walking towards him. She was as she appeared to him when they first fell in love and behind her the glorious rainbow of Heaven appeared as a gateway. “Harry”, she called out. He ran towards her as her name leaped from his lips. “Bess!” And, as they embraced, all of Harry Truman’s tears were scooped up by the Hand of God and dropped into the pond of Heaven where souls go to get refreshed. Copyright 2007 Harald Kasper {moscomment} |
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| Last Updated ( Wednesday, 21 March 2007 ) |
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