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by Judith Arianne
"I found myself immersed in his
There must be compartments
in our souls.
There have to be for all the lessons that we learn through our journeys
here have to be stored in a special place-a place that never judges or
categorizes-it is the feeding place of love and the keeper of consciousness.
As a child one cannot possibly know the soul or the worth of what it represents.
But wait! Is it true that there are old souls, or does the saying of it
not know the truth of the whole? I do not think any soul is any age nor
does it have a beginning or end. Yet, we have all experienced what the
soul offers. The spirit of humanity is rooted in the soul and for it to
grow one must tend it and give it light, warmth, and love. This is a story
of a young boy who touched his ancient soul and nourished his life.
When I was chronologically young, but really ageless, many events took place that "normal" society cannot take seriously. For example, in my last year in high school, a woman walked by me on the campus one day with her four year old son on the way to pick up an older brother whom I knew. I had not previously known that there were other children in the family. She stopped and began to chat with me. The youngster kept looking at me and I him. He did not act like a four year old, and she was carrying him. Something came from him. Profoundness was a way of life for me by this time in my life with many happenings occurring to me--events of personal reality that could not be talked about easily.
"What is his name?" I asked. Suddenly, it seemed as if the everyday world had slipped into a cosmic envelope and only the boy and I were outside of it. The conversation with his mother had ceased. I heard her words still echoing in my mind as inside a great cavern, and I found myself immersed in his eyes that were not those of a child or man but from a place deep and in another dimension. "My name is Jessie, and the doctors say I am dying, but I don't feel like I am really dying now."
"What?" His words calmly refuted the message his mother had just given. She had said there was nothing they could find to help him and that the disease was rare. He had six months to a year if that.
"What makes you feel that you are dying at all Jessie?" I said. "Things can change you know; tomorrow there may be a cure for what you have, and you will run and play again."
"No," he said firmly. "I was told, mommy was told, that what I have will kill me."
"But Jessie, you said you don't feel like it will be now!"
And then he said something to me that made me know that he was in charge of his life, his consciousness, and his soul. "I don't have to die if I don't want to, it is for mommy and daddy. And it isn't now like here and now, it means I can die, but the rest of me will still be here with them." He held out his hand to me, and I took it. I looked at his mother. She was in a fog; he was not even a part of her at that moment. I wondered why God would take him so young. And his young voice rang out. "God needs me for a really important job, and He doesn't care what time I get there." I thought that those were words from his doctor or his parents trying to console him. As I squeezed his tiny hand, I asked that he not be taken away, that he would be well again, that he should not suffer. He could not know that I loved him at this moment, loved that he was so wise to understand the workings of life here. I loved his spirit.
He smiled at me. "I don't have to die NOW," he said. His hand fell from mine, his mother was talking to me, but I did not hear. His head burrowed into her shoulder as she spelled out his death sentence. He looked at me and smiled with his eyes. I wanted to grab him up and run with him to a safe place. Then I realized that he was in the safest place he could be. He had already made the journey to meet his soul, and now he could choose where and when he would continue. About ten years later I met up with his brother at a class reunion
I happened to ask about his brother, although, in the back of my mind, I did not want to hear about his death. He had made such an impression on me, and I knew that he was not a real four year old but a master come in disguise as a four year old. "Oh Jessie, he got better, some kind of spontaneous remission, or healing. You know, the doctors could not understand it with that kind of blood disease; you know my other brother passed away from it." I stood chilled, wondering what really happened? Who was it I met that day?
"Then Jessie is fine. What is he doing-he must still be in school?"
Jack smiled at me, "You know what happened was that Jessie became very smart, everyone always keeping an eye out for him, checking on his progress, and then mom put him in a gifted children program. He's fifteen now, you know there were eight of us, seven now with Wayne gone. He wants to be a doctor and we thought he had had enough of them to last a lifetime!"
I remembered the words Jessie had said to me about dying for his mom and dad. Was he dying because they said he was? He did not believe it, nor did I. Today, Jessie is a scientist studying cell therapy and working on new methods to cure disease. He is a pillar in his community. He is also a spiritual being that while in his mothers arms let me know that we are in charge of who we are, where we go, or how we stay. He knew deep in the room of light in his soul why he was here, and it made me realize that the soul is bountiful, and the capacity it has is endless. We just have to know how to reach it, and that is not across any ocean or on any mountain. It is right in our own backyard becoming more spiritually aware as we learn new paths in the life we have chosen.
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