observable in the bright beams of light that diffused themselves round about us.
It was plain to see that in a brief space our friend would be joining us. Accordingly, we commenced our small preparations. Ruth stationed herself at the head of the bed within easy reach of the lad's head, and placing her hands upon his brow, she gently smoothed his temples.
We are never certain that or ministrations are perceived or felt unless the 'patient' reveals some sign or another that he—or she—has done so. In this case, it was patent that Ruth was making a decided impression, because coincidental with her placing her hands upon the boy's head, he turned his eyes with an upward motion as though seeking or trying to perceive whence the pleasant, soothing sensation came.
It was possible that he could actually see Ruth; if that were the case, so much the better.
We had both assumed a replica of our former earthly habiliments, Ruth being attired in a gay summery garment, looking very natural and normal, and altogether charming. It is necessary to emphasize this, since it was—and always is— our aim to appear as unlike 'celestial beings', should our presence be observed, as it is possible to be. (When Edwin came to meet me upon my own transition, he revealed himself to me dressed in his customary earthly attire. Had he presented himself to me in his spirit clothes, there is every reason to believe that I should have been sufficiently terrified to fancy that if the worst had not come, it could not be long delayed!)
I perched myself at the foot of the lad's bed, and directed my gaze upon him, and there were evident signs of his seeing me. I smiled to him, and gently waved my hand to reassure him. So far, things were proceeding very favorably—would that all passings were as serene.
The great moment in the boy's life had now arrived. I moved to a position at about the middle of the bed upon the side opposite to Ruth. The boy had lapsed into a gentle sleep. As he did so, his spirit body rose slowly above his inert physical body to which it was attached by a bright silver cord—the life—line as it is termed. I placed my arms beneath the floating form; there was the slightest momentary twitch, the cord detached itself, retracted, and disappeared.
To the relatives in the bed-chamber, the boy was 'dead' and 'gone'. To Ruth and me he was alive and present.
I held him in my arms, as one would a child, while Ruth again placed her hands upon his head. A gentle movement of her hands for a minute or two to ensure that the boy would be peacefully comfortable, and we were ready to start upon our rapid journey to our home.
Throughout the transit, Ruth held one of the boy's hands, thus giving him energy and strength while I supported him in my arms. The journey, as with all such journeys, was soon over; we had left the dismal bedroom, and we were in our own beautiful land and home. Quietly and gently we laid the boy upon a very comfortable couch, Ruth seating herself close beside him, as I took a chair at the foot facing our new arrival. 'Well, my dear,' Ruth remarked with evident satisfaction, 'I really think he'll do.'
All there was for us to do now, was to await the awakening, which, in the nature of the case, would not be long delayed.
Our simple, but usually effective, arrangements had already been made. The couch upon which the lad had been laid, was placed close beneath a wide-open window in such a position that, without even the slightest movement of the head, a most enchanting view was to be seen of the gardens without, while through a gap in a line of trees, a distant view of our beautiful city was to be had, clear and colorful. Upon the wall immediately facing the lad there hung a large mirror, so that the reflection of the rest of the room, with all that it suggested in comfort and ease, could be observed with the merest turn of the eye. Children's voices could be heard in the distance, and the birds were singing with their customary vigor.
This was the pleasant situation awaiting our friend when he emerged from his short but refreshing sleep, and this is often the moment when our real work begins!
The Awakening
RUTH was the first to speak when our friend had opened his eyes.
'Well, Roger,' she said, 'how do you feel?' (Our friend at the office had given us the boy's first name, which was sufficient for all purposes.)
Roger opened his eyes still wider as he turned to Ruth. 'Why,' said he, 'I saw you—when was it? A little while ago. Who are you?'
'Just a friend to help you. Call me Ruth.'
'And you, sir. I seem to remember you were sitting at the foot of my bed.'
'That's right,' I said. 'The memory will become clearer in a moment or two.'
Roger started to sit upright, but Ruth gently pressed him back upon the cushions. 'Now, Roger,' said she, 'the order of the day is that you just stay quietly there, and not do too much talking.'
The boy stared out of the window.
'Lovely view, isn't it,' I said, pointing through the window. 'Feeling comfortable? That's right. Well, now, you are wondering what all this is about. Have you any idea what has happened? Only a hazy notion. But the great thing is that now you are feeling all right. All the aches and pains are gone. Isn't that it?'
Roger nodded and smiled as the realization seemed to come upon him. 'Yes, rather, thank you.'
The boy was obviously not of the nervous sort, and there appeared to be no purpose in withholding the truth any longer. I caught Ruth's eye, and she nodded in agreement.
'Roger, my dear boy,' I began, 'I have some pleasant news for you. You were perfectly correct, you did see Ruth and me a little while ago. We were in your bedroom at home, and you were very ill, so ill that the doctor couldn't pull you through. So Ruth and I came to bring you through, through into another world, a lovely world. Do you follow?'
'Then, I've died. Is that it?'
'That's it, old fellow. You're not frightened?'
'No, I don't think so.' He paused. 'I never expected anything like this,' he added.
'No, I don't suppose you did. Who does, except the very comparative few who know what's to come? Honestly, now, what did you expect?'
'Goodness only knows.'
'Angels with large wings, and stern countenances, looking very frigid and remote? Suppose you had seen something like that, what would you have felt and thought? You needn't tell me; I’ll answer the question for you. You would have thought that they had come to haul you off to be tried before some awful Judge somewhere in the High Court of Heaven. And woe betide you if you had misbehaved yourself, my lad.'
Ruth gave a merry peal of laughter, while Roger, who had caught the look in my eye and interpreted it correctly, laughed too.
'Let me tell you at once, Roger, that there are no judges, or even a single great judge, anywhere in this world, the spirit world. Any judging to be done, we do it for ourselves, and manage very nicely. You’ll find you will become extremely critical of yourself, as we all do. We can be very hard on ourselves even. So whatever you may have thought about Judgment Day, dismiss the whole idea from your mind. There is no such thing, there never has been, and there never will be.
'Now I expect you are wondering what is to happen next,' I went on. 'The answer to that is simple: Nothing! - at least for a little while, until you feel refreshed, and then we might all go off together and explore things a bit. How does that appeal to you?'
'It appeals to me very much, but there is something I would like to know.’ Roger looked round. ‘Whose house is this, and who are you? I can see you are a padre, but the color of your cassock is not what I’ve ever seen before.’
‘As to the house, it is mine, though really it is ours, as Ruth lives most of her time with me and so does an old clergyman friend you will meet later. As to my clothes, these I am wearing are only replicas of my earthly ones which I have put on specially for you. I have proper spirit clothes, but suppose I had worn them—and Ruth hers—when we came to fetch you in your room, we might have looked like those grim, forbidding angels I spoke about just now. And no matter how we set our faces into pleasant looks and smiles,