Final Release - the meeting of the three spirits.
One day in May, 1973, all the participants in the rescue drama taking place at Helen’s Sussex cottage began to assemble. First of all Helen saw the Lady sitting in the chair opposite her, with her son, the Boy standing behind her dressed in the rough habit of a Franciscan friar from a previous lifetime.
Helen writes: “Suddenly it seemed that my attention was caught by a flicker of movement across the room. There was present another entity and as my thought registered this, I saw, to my surprise and consternation, the form of my erstwhile lodger, the little old servant woman. She seemed quite at ease, and, except that she no longer wore her apron, she was the same neat little figure in her long-skirted dress, only now she no longer fidgeted with her hands but remained relaxed and at peace. She took no notice whatsoever of me, obviously intent on the task she had returned to perform; and she kept her gaze on her Mistress. Her face expressed pleasurable surprise, more than anything else; then, as she turned towards the Boy, a look of utter love and joy flashed across it. The Boy looked at her, and his smile was warm and encouraging. To me, watching, I could have sworn that a golden shaft of light flowed from him to her and was returned by the
woman deepened by the glowing colours of love.
“Was this the confrontation of which I had been warned? I could but wait and watch, too involved even to pray or to send forth a peaceful radiation. Not that I feel now that efforts of mine were needed. I was outside this triangle of love and hate; I was but the audience in this drama, and all the needed power was pulsating between them. This was the Divine Power of Love-Wisdom, far beyond our earthly conception. A warmth of contentment enveloped me. All was well. All would be well. I began to write my notes describing the scene.
“The Mistress, turning as she caught the movement of another form, faced her one-time maid, the girl who, from adolescence, she had bullied and enslaved, now an old woman and evidently in the similar predicament, that is, dead to the world of matter.”
Lady – You? What are you doing here?
Nan (shrinking back, fear in her eyes) – I used to live here, Madam.
Lady (aghast) – YOU lived here? Here?
Nan – Yes, Madam, for a long time. I came ’ere, if you remember, after…after you …died!
Lady (in horror) – After I…died? Of course. And you? Did you die also?
Nan – Yes, Madam. I died too. I was old, you see, Madam.
Lady – You were old? And after? You went…where?
Nan – I…didn’t go to ’ell, Madam. I stayed here, in the cottage. I stayed ’ere for a very long time, so they told me; years an’ years. I was lost, Madam. Lost.
Lady – I’m not surprised at that. You were never very bright, I recall.
[Helen writes: “To me, watching, a light seemed to flash from the Boy in the corner of the room; it encircled the spirit form of his mother, and remained stationary about her.”]
Lady – But, at least, you have never known the sheer horror of what I have been through.
Nan – No, Madam. I did ’ear you were in the Shadow Lands.
Lady (with resentment and arrogance) – Shadow Lands? Is that what you call them? It was hell, I tell you, hell! (The light gleamed about her and suddenly she put up her hands and covered her face). I have been in hell. (remorsefully) Was I really THAT bad? Did I deserve such a fate? Tell me, did I?
Nan (glancing at the Boy as if to ask him what to say) – You weren’t that bad, Madam. Least, it don’t seem so bad, now.
Lady – Perhaps it doesn’t, now that we’re dead. But you hated me, didn’t you? I was cruel to you. I loved power over people, and you were always so afraid of me.
[“The Boy stretched out his hand towards Nan. From his fingers a beam of light darted across the room; then from the palm of his hand it seemed that a great warmth like a flowing fire of love spread across the cottage room and lit up Nan’s form.”]
Nan – I don’t ’ate you now, Madam. I’ll never ’ate you no more, Madam.
Lady (sobbing) – Why? Why won’t you hate me?
Nan – I don’t rightly know, Madam, not rightly…now I found my way.
Lady – Your way? Where?
Nan – My way to my Dad and Mam, Madam. I’m with them now. It’s a kind of ’eaven, it is. So beautiful, flowers and trees and…the light. An’ people are kind to each other. I mean, spirits are kind…
Lady – Spirits?
Nan – Yes, Madam. Spirits. Least, that’s what they tells me we are. We ain’t people no more.
Lady - “Spirits? I never believed in spirits when I was alive. To think I have become a spirit. Why have you come here?
Nan – Because you called me, Madam.
:Lady – I called you?
Nan – Yes, Madam. It all come about in a queer sort of way. I saw your face, Madam, quite plain, I did, an’ you looked unhappy. I told my Mam. She says, ‘You go an’ talk to ’er. Tell her ’ow sorry you are for her… and for ’ating her.’
Lady – Sorry? You are sorry for me? For me? After my treatment of you? I never thought kindly of you. It never occurred to me that you might have feelings, or that I owed you anything. You worked for me. I treated you worse than I would have treated a dog. And you are sorry for me? Because I have been in hell? Oh, God, where am I? What has happened to us both? What is this place that I cannot mask my shame? Must I be humiliated by your pity, too?
Nan (looking puzzled) – Don’t be angry with me, Madam. I’m only sorry because you are suffering. An’ I’m too happy to want you to be sad. I don’t want that nobody should be hurt. Honest I don’t. Not any more. Look, I’ll say I’m sorry I hated you once, because I did. But that’s all over now. We’ve left it behind us, ain’t we? I mean, now we’re dead.
Lady – I have not left it behind me. You may have done. I have to live amongst it; be with other who are coarse and cruel and who still hate.
Nan (inspired by the helpful thoughts and smiles from the Boy) – But you don’t ’ave to stay there, Madam, not if you really don’t want to. My Mam says, an’ she’s been ’ere for ages, so she should know…that if you’re really sorry, an’ you changes yourself, that you can be shown the way to the better land, like I was. I means, change your thoughts about people, an’ forgive ’em, as they forgive you. That’s in the prayer, isn’t it? …about the Kingdom of Heaven. You have to think different over ’ere, Madam. I mean about your husband, the Master, and your son.
Reviewed and condensed from “The Wheel of Eternity” by Helen Greaves. C.W. Daniel. 1974.
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