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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1708696-What-Goes-Around-Comes-Around
Rated: E · Short Story · Spiritual · #1708696
The understanding of life’s inevitable meaning.
FEATURED in the WDC Newsletter: Spiritual: With a Wink and a Smile, by Shannon May 15, 2013




She was trying to make sense of her life. She needed to understand what life and death really meant --- especially after what happened and, the only one that could help her at this present time, was her closest friend.

“I feel that… I have no more hope, Pamela.”

“But what is Hope?”

“It’s Destiny.”

“No. To have hope in our hearts is to look forward to something that will happen in our lives, maybe tomorrow… maybe in a year and, maybe even more than that. And to trust that it will happen.”

“That's what's killing me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to wait or to live longer, this way, because... they... are all gone.”

“Listen! You really need to remember what we used to talk about in school, when we were teenagers. Did you forget?”

“About what?”

“Debbie!”

“Maybe I… I don’t know.”

“Oh come on.”

Do you mean all those spiritual things you used to talk to me about? Yes, I do remember, of course I do but… Joe was against all that spiritualism in the house and the going to church all the time without feeling Faith deep inside your heart… you know…pretending. So, I changed or he changed me. I went with it --- the marriage, being his wife, having kids, being a mother, becoming older, family, worrying about finances, investing money, working part-time, commitments… all that stuff. I adapted to his lifestyle and I left many things behind.”

“Yes, but what about you and your beliefs?”

“Time went by so quickly and here I am now, a widow. A lonely widow. No objectives. My husband and my sons killed instantly, in that unexplainable accident. I guess I changed completely that day. And, after months, I still mourn, I still think about them, you know. I can still hear them walking around the house, talking to me, asking for dinner favorites or to wash their stinky gym gear. I can still smell that sweet scent from his pipe, you know, in the living room. I think I feel him at night, right there, next to me, in bed. I know it's him.”

“Sweetie, listen to me. You know the consequences, you know better than that. They aren’t here anymore. Remember? I know what you’re feeling deep in your heart but you know that they are in another spiritual plane, growing and progressing. When you think about them, this way, they feel your thoughts coming to them as an instant connection that magically attaches and connects them to you like invisible glue: they are brought back to re-live their tragic death… which they have already forgotten about. They feel your sadness three times as much as you do and they become... desperate, trying to help you. And, they can’t! This doesn’t do them any good at all. Why bring them back from other realms every time you think about them? Furthermore, you aren’t educating your soul as well.”

“I know. I can’t help it.”

“You must reason. Disconnect. Unplug. No more mental phone calls to heaven. They are busy doing something else and waiting for you. You know that. Don’t you remember all we talked about? Don’t you remember that book?”

“Ah yes! Nosso Lar.”

“Yes. That beautiful story about that spiritual colony, Our Home, written by the famous Brazilian spiritist medium Francisco Candido Xavier. We read all about the spirit’s account of his experiences in the afterlife.”

“Yes! Andre Luiz spiritually dictated the story to Chico Xavier and tells us what he saw and did after he died and arrived to the other spiritual reality of life and… of hope... in that spiritual city. He discovered that death is nothing but a doorway to a new and richer life. You couldn’t have forgotten about this!”

“I didn’t. It was dormant inside of me. Like charcoal… you just need to blow a little bit and it becomes... warm again.”

“Yes, Debbie. You did the course with me, you read the book with me… you know all this and much more. I also know that you married a difficult, grumpy man who loved you dearly. You took care of him and you had three handsome sons. You were a good wife and mother and you cared for them with love and devotion. You lived with him for many years, gave him mental, spiritual and physical pleasure and raised those boys into polite, respectful young men. You did what you had to do and you did it well. It’s not up to you to suffer and wonder why they were taken away from you that way, so soon. You have to think about yourself now, Debbie, please. We will all face death at some appointed time and place. This is our only certainty in life.”

“Why didn’t I go with them, too? I was swimming when the boat exploded with them… inside it. I never had a chance to say good-bye… Oh why?”

“Because there is something called time, Debbie. And, it wasn’t your time. There is this invisible “soul” clock inside of us that knows exactly when it’s our time to go, no matter what. It was all decided up there by them and, by us. You need to see things from a different perspective now; understand spiritual life and its mechanism, not fight against it and, for sure this will lead you to a better understanding of life’s inevitable meaning.”

“Just like that, they came and they went… What comes goes.”

“Yes, my darling, it’s the spiritual cycle of progress into another realm of mystery and magic. The cause and effect law. And, the most powerful thing of all… the more we live in this planet --- or in any other planet, the better for our soul’s escalate to a new beginning. The more we live here, the better for our improvement toward perfection. Isn‘t this beautiful?”

“God pours life into death and death into life without a drop being spilled, right? I remember this quote.”

“Yes, Debbie.

“What am I to do with myself, Pamela?”

“My darling, live your life, help others, be productive and love no matter what.”

“There must be significance for my existence… I mean… what is the meaning of it all?”

“Debbie, it’s mostly about consciousness and happiness or a feeling of oneness, of your own self existence and that it is fruitful. There are people that say that we shouldn’t die before doing 3 things: 1. Have a child, 2. Write a book, 3. Plant a tree. By doing one, two or all of these things we will leave behind a piece of ourselves in the planet, a particle of our consciousness, our life, and a bit of our happiness. That’s what they say but I mostly think that just by living an existence in this planet you are crediting bonus-hours to your spiritual time sheet.”

“I want to believe in this so much! What could I do now that I am all alone… you know, no more family and responsibility?”

“There are so many people that need a helping hand, you know, in hospitals, in nursing homes, needy children - really lonely people out there that can‘t find answers or help. Sick. Dying. Alone. Look at you! You‘re strong, healthy and you have almost everything. Besides, you have a big, kind heart that can fill other people‘s lives with your attention and care. Remember what Andre Luiz said in that book? "Feel the universal and unconditional love. Give. That is how we change and grow.”

“Alright. You’re right. I don’t want to be useless and unproductive. I also know that by necessity and for our soul‘s progress, we have to permeate our lives with good feelings, fill up our lives with wonderful values and let go of our daily bitterness.”

“Yes! So, let’s start tomorrow?”



And so Debbie decided to do something good out of her life. She went to nursing homes and talked to families that had or were about to lose a loved one and spoke to them of acceptance, love, spirituality and the subsequent discovery that there is redemption yes, although we believe very little in it. She comforted those that were suffering with the recent loss of a family member and brought peace to disturbed, suffering hearts. She talked of forgiveness and of courage; faith in tomorrow no matter what. Her openness and support built her soul and spirit with powerful energy to persevere and give continuity to her destiny by finding her own answers in the silent mysteries of life.

In one of the nursing homes she used to go to, she immediately became attached to three elderly patients. They were Miss Pearl, Mr. Hennessy and Mrs. Beausoleil. The three of them were terminal patients and had been in the nursing home for over a year. Her favorite patient was Mrs. Beausoleil, though. Oh she loved her so dearly! She was so fragile and pale that she looked like a porcelain statuette. You could see her little blue veins in her arms. Her hair was so white that it looked like little snow flakes all over her head and, her eyes were so blue that you thought they were two precious aquamarine stones. She had the tenderest of voices but her smile --- ah her smile, it made you think of strawberry ice cream and of condensed milk custard pudding! You wanted to kiss her all the time yet you'd worry she might break as she was so delicate and small. She almost always had a sad, distant look --- her son, who lived in Malibu, never came to visit her. Debbie bonded with Mrs. Beausoleil immediately and they became really close friends. Debbie would come visit her every Friday afternoon - as she did with the other two patients - and read books to them. She was reading Thorn Birds to Miss Pearl, Madame Bovary to Mr. Hennessy (he was enjoying it very much) and, she was about to read the last chapter of The Kite Runner to Mrs. Beausoleil, next Friday. Mrs. Beausoleil looked forward to these visits very much and she knew that they both enjoyed these special moments together, once a week. The reality of it all was that Debbie enjoyed it more because it lighted her heart up with the warmest of feelings. She couldn't wait for Friday afternoons!



On the appointed Friday she happily walked into Mrs. Beausoleil’s room. She saw her quietly lying down in the cold, metal hospital bed. Her room seemed a bit cooler than usual so she softly opened the curtains for light and warmth. Mrs. Beausoleil woke up and smiled her sweetest of smiles but… she looked rather odd and tired today.

“Ah finally… here you are! I was waiting for you to read me my very last chapter of our book. Today is Friday, right? Is it today?”

“Yes, it’s today! And how are you feeling today, sweet pea?”

“Very, very tired and sleepy but I can’t wait for you to read the last chapter! What an extraordinary story. It has been such a delight, my dear.”

“Do you want me to come another day?”

“Oh no! Please, go ahead! I will just close my eyes and listen to your calm voice, imagine the story and visualize the characters in my mind, alright?”

“Of course! I am anxious to share this last chapter with you as well.”

“Thank you, my darling, for such cherished moments.”

"My pleasure, sweetheart. Next week we will select a new book!”

Debbie opened the book and read the last chapter of The Kite Runner as softly as she could but with such emotion that she cried. She saw Mrs. Beausoleil cry too --- little bright tears were running down her pink cheeks and her little hands trembled slightly as they folded on top of her belly. When she finished the last chapter she sighed deeply and closed the book. She noticed that Mrs. Beausoleil was deeply asleep. She looked like an angel, lying there, in her bed. She loved that little old woman so much. The moment she thought that, it was as if… her body… had been filled up with a warm light and peace. She felt so… good. She felt so loved. She felt so… special.

She quietly walked to the window and closed the curtains; she didn't want Mrs. Beausoleil to be disturbed by the light and noise from outside and then she turned around to leave the room.

“Why are you closing the curtains?” the nurse asked her while she came into Mrs. Beausoleil's room.

“Shh… Mrs. Beausoleil is asleep.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mrs. Beausoleil. She’s resting. Look at…”

When she looked at the bed it was… empty! There was no one there! Only the cold and empty bed - as cold as the room was. The curtains blew softly as if clouds were playing with the wind that came from the flowery garden outside. She felt the scent of red roses caressing her cheeks, softly, like a kiss; the same roses she used to “steal” from that garden to brighten Mrs. Beausoleil’s Friday afternoons. She stood still and cried heart fully, holding the book close to her heart.

The puzzled nursed looked at her and smiled --- understanding the unearthly things that she knew happened there and all around us, especially in hospitals and nursing homes. She saw that Debbie was deeply affected by something only she... knew.

“Yes, she’s gone. She died last night. I’m so sorry. You were very close to her, weren‘t you?”

“Oh I saw her… here… we were… together. Oh such… precious moments!”

“I understand”, the nurse said and quietly left the room.

Debbie cried in silence. She had experienced the true reality of an afterlife existence; she had had her first contact with the spiritual world and would never forget it. Ever. She understood things better now; she felt it deep in her soul and deep under her skin. She felt it in her heart --- an immense happiness… by giving… because life is what our thoughts and actions make it! What goes (from you) comes (back to you) in the most mysterious of ways.

What Goes Around Comes Around.



Words:  2359



© Copyright 2010 ChrisDaltro-Chasing Moonbeams (chrisdaltro at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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