Days glided by unnoticed. Weeks passed. Gradually I began to get used to my unusual everyday
visitors. In fact all events, even the oddest ones, which at the very beginning we consider almost a miracle, become ordinary, if they
recur regularly. Just as happened with my wonderful "guests" who greatly amazed me in the beginning and then became almost an
ordinary phenomenon to which I honestly gave part of my heart and was ready to give much more to help anybody, but it is impossible
to absorb endless human pain without it asphyxiating and destroying you. Therefore I became more careful and tried to help without
opening all the "sluices" of my boiling emotions and tried to remain as calm as possible; and to my greatest surprise, I noticed very
soon that I could help more efficiently without getting tired and spent noticeably less life-force.
It would seem that my heart should have been "locked" very quickly, being submerged in a "waterfall" of human sadness and grief,
but apparently, the joy for those who had found the so long needed peace, when I succeeded in helping them, greatly exceeded any
sadness, and I wanted to do it endlessly, as much as my forces, unfortunately still those of a child, allowed. So, I continued to talk to
each one, to search for somebody somewhere, to prove something to somebody, to convince somebody of something and, when I could,
even to console somebody...
All "cases" were very alike; all of them had one and the same aim – the wish to "correct" that which one did not have time
to live through or to do right in the "passed" life. But sometimes there were really outstanding cases which were fast imprinted in my
memory, making me come back to them over and over...
When they appeared I was sitting quietly at the window and drawing roses for my school homework. Suddenly I heard very clearly
a thin but very persistent child's voice which for some reason spoke in a whisper:
– Mummy, please! We’re only going to try… I promise you... Let’s try?
The air in the middle of the room became thick and two spirits, which looked very like each other, appeared. As it turned
out later, it was a mother and her little daughter. I was silently waiting, watching them in surprise, because previously spirits had come to
me exclusively one at a time. Therefore, in the beginning I thought that one of them probably had to be like me, that being, alive;
but I could not define which one, because according to my perception neither of these two was living…
The woman was still silent, and the girl obviously unable to wait any longer, lightly touched her and quietly whispered:
– Mummy!
There was no reaction whatsoever. The mother seemed absolutely indifferent to anything, and only the child's thin voice was able to
sometimes snatch her out of this terrible numbness for a short while and lit a little spark in her green eyes which had seemed to be
extinguished forever...
The girl, on the contrary, was merry and very lively. It seemed that she was quite happy in the world where she dwelt presently.
I could not understand what was wrong here and tried to be as calm as possible in order not to frighten off my strange guests.
– Mummy! Come on! Talk!!! – Obviously the girl lost patience again.
She was five or six by appearance, but it was she who was in the lead in this strange company. The woman kept silence all the time.
I decided to try to "melt the ice" and asked as softly as possible:
– Tell me, may I help you in something?
The woman sadly looked at me and at last said:
– Can somebody really help me? I killed my daughter!
On hearing such a confession, I felt chills run up and down my spine, but it did not perplex the girl at all and she calmly pronounced:
– It’s not true, Mummy.
– So, what happened in reality? – I carefully asked.
– A terribly huge truck ran over us; my mum was driving. She thinks it was her fault that she could not save me. – The girl explained
patiently with the tone of a little professor. – And now my mum does not want to live even here and I cannot convince her how much I need
her.
– Tell me, what do you want me to do? – I asked her.
– Would you, please, ask my dad to stop blaming mum for all that? – All of a sudden the girl asked very sadly. – I am very happy here
with her, but after each time we go to see dad, she becomes the way she is now for a long time.
I understood that the father had probably loved this child very much and, on having nowhere he could unburden himself of his pain,
he accused her mother of everything that had happened.
– Do you also want it? – I gently asked the woman.
The only thing she did was a sad nod and then she again firmly locked herself in her mournful world, letting nobody in there, including
her little daughter, so anxious for her mum.
– Dad is good. He just does not know that we still live. – The girl said faintly. – Please, tell him…
Probably, there is nothing more awful in the world than to feel such guilt as the mother did... Her name was Christina. When she was
alive, she was a cheerful and very happy woman who was just twenty six at the moment of her death. Her husband adored her…
Her little daughter’s name was Vesta, and she was the first-born in a happy family adored by all, and the father simply worshipped her.
His name was Arthur, and he also was merry and cheerful just like his wife, before her death. And now nobody and nothing could help him
to find any peace in his soul tormented by ruthless pain. And he gradually allowed hatred toward his most beloved human being, his
wife, to grow within him, thus trying to protect his heart from total destruction.
– If you go to visit my dad, please, don’t be frightened… He sometimes can be strange, but it happens only when he is not "real". – The
girl whispered. I felt how very unpleasant it was for her to talk about it.
I did not want to ask and thus distress her even more and decided that I would find out for myself. I asked Vesta who of them would wish
to show me where they had lived before their death, and whether her father still lived there. The place which they indicated disappointed me
a little, because it was quite far from my house and time was needed to get there. Therefore I could not think up anything right now and
asked my new acquaintances whether they would be able to appear again in a few days? On getting the affirmative reply, I firmly promised
them that I would meet their husband and father.
Vesta glanced at me with a slightly mischievous look and said:
– If my dad refuses to hear you out at once, say that his "fox-cub" misses him very much. He called me this only when we were alone
and nobody else knows it…
Suddenly her playful face became very sad. Obviously she remembered something very dear to her and she indeed began to look like a
small fox-cub.
– All right, if he refuses to believe me, I shall tell him this. – I promised.
The figures disappeared, softly twinkling. I continued to sit on my chair, trying to think something up to get at least two or three free
hours to have the opportunity to keep my word and visit a disillusioned with life father...
At that time "two or three hours" outside home was quite a long period of time of which I undoubtedly would have to give an account
to my grandmother or mother. As I never could lie convincingly, I had to think of a real reason for my absence for such a long time.
By no means could I let my new guests down…
The next day was Friday and my grandmother was going to go to the city market which she did almost every week, although, honestly
speaking, there was no huge necessity in that, because the majority of fruits and vegetables grew in our garden, and other food could be
bought in the nearest grocery stores. Therefore a weekly "tour" to the market obviously had another reason and mostly was symbolical –
Gran simply wanted to "get some fresh air", meet with her friends and acquaintances, and also to bring us some delicious things from the
market for the week end.
I hung around her for quite some time and could not invent anything, and then she suddenly asked:
– Why can’t you keep still? What’s the urge?
– I have to go out! – I fired, happy to have unexpected help. – For a long time.
– For others’ sake or for your own? – My gran asked, squinting.
– For others’, and I really need it. I gave my word!
As usual, she scrutinized me (few liked this gaze of hers – it seemed that she peeped straight into your soul) and finally said:
– You should be home by dinner, not later. Is it enough?
I nodded, restraining myself from jumping for joy. I could not imagine that everything would turn out as I wanted so easily. Grandmother
often truly surprised me – it seemed that she always knew when the matter was truly serious and when just a whim, and usually helped me,
within the limits of the possible. I was grateful to her very much for her faith in me and my odd acts. Sometimes I was almost sure that she
knew exactly what I did and where I went. Probably, she did know, only I never asked her about it.
We went out from the house together, as if both going to the market, but after the first turn we separated and each went our own way…
The house where Vesta’s father still lived was in the first "new district" (thus we called the first districts with many-storeyed buildings,
which recently began to be built in the town) and was approximately a forty minute rapid walk from us. I always liked to walk very much,
and it never caused any inconvenience to me, but I did not like this new district, because all the houses were like match boxes – identical and
faceless. Besides, because the place had only just begun to be built on, there was not a single tree or any other "greenery", and it looked very
much like a stone and asphalt model of an ugly and unreal town. Everything was cold and soulless, and I always felt very uncomfortable – it
seemed to me that I lacked air there…
Besides, it was almost impossible to find the number of a house, even if one wished to very much. For example, I was between houses
¹ 2 and ¹ 26 and did not understand how that could be, guessing where my "disappeared" house ¹ 12 was? There was no logic in it
whatsoever, and I could not understand how somebody can live in such chaos. But I was helped and at last succeeded in finding the house
I needed. So, I finally stood in front of the closed door, wondering how an absolutely unknown man would meet me.
I met many people I never knew this way, which always required huge nervous tension on my part. I never felt comfortable, breaking
into somebody’s private life, therefore each "excursion" like this always seemed to me a little mad. Also I perfectly understood how bizzare
it must sound to those who had just lost a dear person and a little girl suddenly intruded in their life and declared that she could help them
to talk to a dead wife, sister, son, mother or father. Admit it; they should have considered it absolutely and totally abnormal! To tell the
truth, I cannot understand even now, why did all these people listen to me at all?
So, now I stood in front of a stranger’s door, hesitating to call and having absolutely no idea what awaited me behind it. But I thought
about Christina and Vesta and mentally scolded myself for cowardice. I forced myself to raise my trembling hand and push the button…
Nobody answered for very long time. I already was going to leave as the door suddenly swung open with a jerk and a young man appeared
on the threshold. He was undoubtedly very hansome in the past, but now he, regrettably, produced a rather unpleasant impression, because
he was absolutely drunk.
I became scared and my first thought was to go away as quickly as possible. But next to me I felt the raging emotions of two very
disturbed spirits which were ready to sacrifice heaven knows what in order that this drunk and unhappy, but so dear and beloved man,
could at last hear them, if only for a minute…
– What do you want? – He began aggressively enough.
He was truly drunk as a skunk and all the time swayed from side to aside, obviously having difficulty being steady on his legs. Here I
understood what Vesta’s words about her daddy being "not real" meant! Apparently, when the girl saw him in this state, which did not
remind her of her daddy who she had known and loved for all her short life, she called him "not real".
– Please, don’t be afraid of him. – Her voice sounded in my head, as if she felt what I was thinking about at that moment. It forced me
to brace up and speak.
– I would like to talk to you. – I said soothingly. – May I come in?
– What for? – Almost maliciously, the man asked.
– Please, I beg you, don’t worry... I have a message for you… from your daughter. She is here with me, if you want to talk to her…
I was afraid to imagine what reaction my words could cause in the blind drunk man. As it appeared, I truly was right to be fearful.
He roared like an injured beast, and I was afraid that all the neighbours would come running and I would have to go away, achieving
nothing.
– Don’t you dare!!!! – The father, infuriated by my words, raged. – Where did such a thing like you come from? Get out!!!
I did not know what to say to him, how to explain and whether it was really worth doing? He understood almost nothing at that
moment. But the thin voice again whispered:
– Don’t be afraid, please. Tell him that I am here. I often saw him in this state.
– I beg your pardon, Arthur. This is your name, isn’t it? No matter whether you want to believe it or not, your daughter is here with
me. It is true! And now she sees everything that you do and hears what you say.
For a fraction of a second he stared at me with almost intelligent gaze and I already rejoiced that everything would be all right, as
suddenly strong hands raised me from earth and put me on the other side of the threshold, quickly slamming the ill-fated door right in
front of my very nose.
To my shame, I was absolutely taken aback. Certainly, many different things had happened over the time that I communicated with
the dead. Some people were angry only because an unknown girl suddenly dared to shatter their peace. Some did not want to belive in
the reality of what I tried to tell them. Some did not want to talk at all, because I was a stranger to them. Yes, a lot of things happened...
But nobody ever chucked me out of the house. Again, like it sometimes happened to me, I felt myself to be a little and helpless girl who
wanted very much that a clever grown up would give me some good advice which would solve all the problems at once and
everything would fall into place.
Unfortunately, there was no "grown up" next to me and I had to get out of this scrape by myself. So, taking a deep breath and closing
my eyes tight, I pulled my "trembling" emotions together and pushed the doorbell again …
Danger is not frightful when you know how it looks. Therefore I said to myself that I just had to deal with a drunk, embittered with
pain, person who I would not be afraid of anymore.
This time the door opened much quicker. Arthur’s drunken face expressed utter surprise.
– You? Again! – He could not believe it.
I was very afraid that he would slam the door again and then I would have no chance to do anything...
– Daddy, daddy, please! Don’t offend her! She will go away and then nobody will help us!!! – The girl whispered, on the verge of
weeping. – It’s me, your fox-cub! Do you remember how you promised me to take me to the magic mountain? Do you? – She "glued" her
round pleading eyes on me, desperately asking me to repeat her words. I looked at her mother. Christina nodded.
It didn’t seem a good idea to me, but I had no right to make any decision instead of them, because this was their life and, most
likely, it was their last conversation.
I repeated the little girl’s words and was terrified of the miserable father’s expression. It seemed that he had been stabbed right in the
heart. I tried to talk to him or calm him down somehow, but he was beside himself and refused to hear anything.
– Please, enter. – The girl whispered.
I managed to squeeze by him through the doorway and entered the flat. There was a stifling smell of alcohol and of something that I
could not define.
Once, a long time ago, it had been a very pleasant and comfortable flat, one of those which we call happy. But now it was a
real "nightmare", which its owner was unable to get out of on his own...
Pieces of broken porcelain were scattered all over the floor, mixing with torn photos, clothes, and heaven knows what else. The
windows were tightly curtained and the room was submerged in semi-darkness. Certainly, this kind of "decor" could only cast a mortal
gloom followed by suicide...
Probably, Christina had similar thoughts, because she suddenly asked me:
– Please, do something.
I answered: "Of course!", but thought to myself: "If I only knew what!!!" Nevertheless, something had to be done and I decided that
I would try until I got whatever result – either he would hear me at last or (at worst) he again would chuck me out of the flat.
– So, are you going to talk to them or not? – I asked him with deliberate anger in my voice. – I don’t have spare time for you and I
am here only because this wonderful person – your daughter – is here with me!
The man suddenly flopped into an arm-chair, embraced his head with his hands and began to sob bitterly. It lasted long enough, and
it was obvious that, like most men, he absolutely did not know how to cry. His tears were scanty and came to him very hard. For the first
time I understood what the expression “man-tears” truly meant.
I sat down on the edge of a beside-table and confusedly watched the stream of another person’s tears, having absolutely no idea what
to do next.
– Mummy, what are all those monsters doing here? – The scared thin voice faintly asked.
Only now did I notice some very strange creatures a multitude of which "spun" around the drunken Arthur...
My hair stood on end. They appeared to be mostly "monsters" from fairy-tales, only here they seemed very real. They
looked like evil spirits released from an oil lamp which managed to "fasten" right to the poor man’s chest and, hang on him like a bunch
of grapes, gladly "devouring" his life-force, which was almost exhausted already…
I felt that Vesta was absolutely horrified but tried not to show it as best she could. The poor thing watched in horror at how the
terrible "monsters" pitilessly "ate" her beloved father right before her eyes. I had no idea what to do but something must be done
immediately. I quickly looked around and found nothing better to grasp than the pile of dirty plates and toss them on the floor with
all my might. Arthur jumped up in the arm-chair and stared at me with his half-mad eyes.
– Stop moping! – I cried. – Look, what "friends" you have invited to your house!
I was not sure whether he could see what we saw, but this was my only hope to bring him round somehow and thus make him sober
up a bit.
The way his eyes suddenly became like saucers I understood – he saw it. Totally horrified, he dashed aside into a corner,
being unable to take his eyes off his "cute" guests and say a word; he only pointed at them with his trembling hand. He was trembling
with shock and I understood that if I did nothing, the poor man would have a nervous attack.
I mentally tried to address the strange monster-like creatures, but nothing good came of it; they ominously "growled", waving me
away with their paws with sharp claws and without turning around, sent a very painful power blow straight into my chest. One of them
"unglued" from Arthur and thinking that Vesta would be easy prey, jumped on her. The girl began to squeal wildly from surprise, but –
one has to give her due for bravery – she began to fight it off with all her might. They were incorporeal spirits, therefore perfectly
"understood" each other and could freely inflict and exchange energy shots. You should have seen the fervour with which the fearless
little girl threw herself into battle.
Surely her vigorous blows made the shrivelling "monster" see stars, but to our shame we, the three observers, froze so that we did
not react immediately to give her any help. Right then Vesta began to look like a totally squeezed golden lump and, on turning
transparent, disappeared somewhere. I understood that she had given all her forces, trying to defend herself, and now she had nothing
left to maintain the contact with us. Christina perplexedly looked around – probably her daughter was not in the habit of disappearing
all of a sudden, leaving her absolutely alone. I began to look around then and I saw the most punch-drunk face I ever saw in my life,
both before and after... Arthur was in real shock and looked right at his wife!
Most likely the overdose of alcohol, huge stress and all subsequent emotions opened a "door" between our different worlds for a
short while and he saw his dead Christina, being beautiful and "real" the same as he always knew her. No words could describe
the expression in their eyes! They did not talk, although, as I understood, Arthur could hear her. I think, he just could not talk
at that moment, but his eyes contained everything – the wild pain which had tormented him for so long, boundless happiness which
stunned him with its suddeness and supplication, and a lot more things which no words would be able to express!
He stretched out his hands to her, not understanding that he would never be able to hug her anymore in this world. I think he hardly
understood anything at all then... He simply saw her again, which was quite incredible in itself! All the rest did not matter to
him at all... And here Vesta appeared again. She stared at her dad in surprise and suddenly, understanding everything, cried heart-rendingly:
– Da-a-d! Daddy!!! – She threw her arms around his neck, or rather tried to, because she, like her mother, could never physically
touch him in this world anymore.
– My fox-cub, my dear, dear, child, my joy. – The father repeated, grasping emptiness. – Don’t go. Don’t leave me, please!
He literally "choked" with emotions too strong for his tormented heart. And here I became worried that this unexpected, almost
superhuman, happiness could kill him... But the hissing and frenzied "monsters", about which we had totally forgotten, took the strain
off (just in time!), but they obviously were not going to forget anybody. To my shame, I absolutely forgot about them, being "hypnotized"
by the beauty of the family reunion! Now, they changed "tactics" and did not attack the father. They considered it more comfortable
to appease their eternal "hunger" and sate themselves with the life-force of a child – little Vesta. Arthur frantically brandished his arms,
trying to protect his daughter, but of course he was unable to harm anybody. The situation got totally out of hand and began to acquire
a very unpleasant turn too quickly. I had to get rid of this dog-tooth-claws-hissing horror as quickly as possible and do that so that it
could never come back and hurt the poor man…
– Think, think, think! – I yelled to myself, almost aloud.
Suddenly, in a bright flash, I saw a "picture" of my body shining with blinding green and my old "star friends" who smiled on me and
pointed at that green light... Most likely my "panicking" brain somehow succeeded in calling them from somewhere, and now they tried
in their own way to "prompt" me as to what I must do. Without thinking twice, I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate and mentally call
the feeling forgotten a long time ago. In a fraction of a second the whole of me "blazed" with the same amazingly bright green light which
I had just seen in the "picture" that my friends showed me. My body shone so brightly that it lit up almost the whole room together with the
swarming loathsome creatures. I was not sure what to do further, but I felt that I must direct this "light" (or more precisely, energy) at the
wriggling "monsters" to force them to disappear from our sight as quickly as possible and from Arthur’s life, which was complicated enough
without them.
The room blazed with green and I felt that a very "thick" green ray broke from my hands and hit the mark. A wild squeal turning into
an "other-worldly" howl was heard. I thought that everything was over at last and they would disappear for good, but it appeared that the
"happy ending" had not come yet. The creatures convulsively clutched with their claws and paws at the father swinging with his hands and
the daughter bravely fighting with them and obviously were not going to surrender. I understood that Vesta would not survive the second
"attack" and thus lose her only chance to talk to her father for the last time. I could not allow that. I pulled my strength together once again
and with all my force "flung" the green rays at all "monsters" simultaneously. Something loudly flapped and….. Complete silence.
At last all monster-like creatures disappeared and we could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
This was my first, still a "child's", war with real creatures from the low-astral level of our planet. I cannot say that it was pleasant or I
was not scared. Today we live in the twenty-first century with a glut of computer games and have got used to everything, so that no scary
thing can surprise us anymore. Even little children feel totally at home in the world of computer vampires, werewolves, killers and rapists
and are absolutely delighted to kill, cut, devour and shoot just to "go to the next level" of their favourite game. Most likely, if a real monster
were to appear at that moment in a room, they would not even think about being frightened, but surely lump the blame onto special effects,
holography, shifting in time, etc, despite the fact that none of them could experience in reality either "time travel" or the other
"effects" they adore so much.
But they proudly feel themselves the "fearless heroes" of their favourite cruel games, although it is highly unlikely that these heroes
would behave in the same "heroic" way, if they saw any LIVING low-astral monster in reality.
But let us come back into our room, now "purified" from the claw-and-fang dirt.
Gardually I calmed down and was able to talk to my new acquaintances. Arthur sitting in the arm-chair, stone-still and dumbfounded,
looked now at me. The alcohol had totally evaporated from him and now I saw a very pleasant but recklessly unhappy young man.
– Who are you? Are you an angel too? – He asked faintly.
I was asked this question very often (only without "too") when I met the spirits and I already got used to not reacting to it, although to
tell the truth, in the beginning it perplexed me for a long time.
I pricked up my ears.
– Why "too"? – Puzzled, I asked.
– Somebody came to me who called himself an "angel", but I know that it was not you. – Arthur answered sadly.
A very unpleasant conjecture dawned upon me...
– Did you feel bad after the "angel" left? – I asked, having already understood what was the matter.
– How do you know? – He was very surprised.
– It was not an angel, rather on the contrary. You were simply used, but I cannot explain it correctly for you, because I still know
little about it. I simply feel when it happens. You have to be very careful. – The only thing I could tell him then.
– Is this something like what I saw today? – Arthur asked thoughtfully.
– In a way, yes.
It was clear that he did his best to understand all that. Unfortunately, I was unable to explain everything to him, because I was just
a little girl which tried to "dig" down to truth on her own, being guided in her "search" just by her "special talent", still unclear even to
herself...
Obviously Arthur was a strong person who, being unable to understand what was going on, simply accepted it. However,
no matter how strong this exhausted by pain man was, it was obvious that his beloved daughter and wife’s images which now he could
not see brought unendurable and deep suffering to him... One had to have a stone heart to calmly observe how he looked around with
the eyes of a confused child, trying to "return" his beloved wife Christina and his brave dear "fox-cub" – Vesta, if only for a fraction of
a second. Regrettably, his brain could not endure such a huge load and became firmly "shut down" isolating him from his wife and
daughter’s world, thus preventing their communication.
Arthur neither begged for help nor was indignant... To my enormous relief, he accepted those crumbs which life could give to him
today with surprising calmness and gratitude. Obviously, the "squall" of both positive and negative emotions totally emptied his poor,
exhausted heart, and now he could only patiently wait, hoping that I would have something to offer him.
They talked for a long time, even making me cry, despite the fact that I thought I had got used to something like that, if, certainly,
one can get used to this at all...
In approximately an hour I felt like a squeezed lemon and began to worry a little, thinking about returning home, but did not dare
to stop this meeting, which had already become much happier, but regrettably doomed to be the last one. Very many who I
tried to help this way pleaded with me to come again, but I refused. Not because I did not pity them, but because there were so many
of them and I was one, unfortunately. Besides I had to live my own life which I adored and always dreamed of living as fully
and interestingly as possible.
Therefore, no matter how I pitied them, I always gave myself to a person for only one meeting in order that he had the
opportunity to change (or at least to try) that which he or she would like very much to change but usually had not the slightest
hope of doing so. I considered it to be fair enough, both for me and for them. Only for one did I break my "iron" rule and met
my guest several times, because I just could not say no to her.
25. Stella
How can one understand or explain that which he never heard or knew? But people do it constantly, without thinking that maybe
they are wrong or others quite simply do not need their opinion or explanation... I still remember my only intent to tell a "clever man"
about a charming girl with a lucid name Stella. From his "bird’s eye view", he very indulgently began to explain to me what I
had "truly" felt and what had "really" happened....
It was an amazing story and I was eager to share it with somebody for the first time, but after this unprecedented in its foolishness
case, I never repeated a similar error and shared my thoughts or adventures with anybody, except my father, which happened a bit later.
Then I firmly decided that I would never again allow someone to wound my soul, which I usually held "unbuttoned" for all who
might need it, so badly and which now got a deep crack in it, because a quite dull-witted person senselessly wanted to make a
brilliant display of his "knowledge" in front of a naive nine-year-old child.
The most shocking detail here was that this person was a "well-educated" university professor who was invited to our school
to carry out a meeting and I thought that he would be the one who understood everything correctly, like it should be. But as
it appeared, a graduate degree could not always give a real level of understanding, not to mention his stale and indifferent soul. Like
one magnificent writer said: "even a small mind can shine, if it is properly rubbed against books". So, obviously, this professor had
rubbed his mind...
But this story is not about him, but about someone truly pure and lucid and therefore absolutely worthwhile telling about.
One early autumn morning I walked in the nearby forest. On gathering a bouquet of the last autumn flowers, I, as usual, came to
the cemetery to lay them on my grandad’s grave.
Our cemetery was very beautiful (if, certainly, one may use this word to describe this sad place). It was (and still is) right in the
forest in a surprisingly light glade surrounded by mighty old trees and looked like a quiet green harbour where everybody could find
rest and peace, if fate for one or another reason suddenly broke his fragile thread of life. We called this cemetery "new", because it
had just been opened and my grand-dad was only the third person to be buried there. Therefore it did not look like a real cemetery...
I entered the gate and greeted a shortish, thin, old lady who sat there alone and was submerged in the train of her thoughts.
The day was pleasant, sunny and warm, although autumn had acceded to the throne and ruled very confidently. The light breeze
rustled in the remaining leaves, spreading around the sweet smell of honey, mushrooms and earth warmed by the last sun rays... Kind,
deep and "golden" silence reigned in this peaceful place of Eternal Rest, just like it should.
As usual, I sat down on a small bench near grandad’s tomb and began to tell him the latest news. I knew that it was foolish and
that he could not hear me, even if I wished it very much (because his spirit lived in me from the day of his death), but I lacked his
presence so strongly and constantly, that I had allowed myself this tiny, inoffensive illusion in order to return that wonderful
connection which I had only with him alone, if only for a short moment.
So, I quietly and peacefully "spoke" to my grandad and did not notice when the miniature old lady came and sat down next to
me on a small stump. I do not know how long she sat with me like this, but when I came back into "normal reality", I saw blue
radiant eyes, not at all senile, which tenderly looked at me, as if asking whether I needed any help.
– Oh, I am sorry. I did not notice when you came! – I said being strongly embarrased.
Usually it was difficult to approach me unnoticed. An internal sense of self-defence always snapped into action, but this nice
old lady emmited such warm and boundless good which most likely inhibited all my "protective reflexes".
– Well, here I am, speaking with my grandad. – I said abashedly.
– Don’t be ashamed, dear, – the old lady shook her head, – you have a soul-grantor. It is a rare and enormous happiness.
Don’t be ashamed.
I looked at the frail and very unusual old lady with total attention having absolutely no idea what she was talking about, but for
some reason feeling absolute and complete trust toward her. She sat closer, tenderly hugged me with her aged, dry, but very warm
hand and unexpectedly smiled very brightly:
– Don’t worry, dear, everything will be all right. Just don’t be in a hurry to know all the answers. It is too early for you, because,
in order to get answers, first of all you must know the correct questions, which have not matured in you yet...
Many years had to pass before I succeeded in understanding what this strange wise old lady truly wanted to say. But then I just
listened to her very attentively, trying to memorize every word in order to "scroll" later in my memory everything I did not understand
(but which was, as I felt, very important for me) and try to catch at least grains of what would help me in my ever-lasting search.
– You have undertaken too heavy a weight. Be careful, you may overstrain yourself. – The old lady calmly continued and I
understood that she meant my contacts with the dead. – Not all people are worth it, dear. Some must pay for their acts,
otherwise they will begin to consider that they deserve forgiveness for no reason whatsoever, and then the only thing your goodness
will bring to them is harm... Remember, my little one, good always must be WISE. Otherwise it is not good, but just
an echo of your heart or desire which may not necessarily coincide with the real essence of the person to whom you have given such
a precious gift.
I suddenly became ill at ease. It seemed that those words were not said by a nice old lady but a very wise and kind sorceress who’s
every word was literally imprinted in my brain. It looked like she carefully conducted me along the "correct" path in order that
I, still little and foolish, would not have to "stumble" too often, undertaking my "soft-hearted feats", sometimes quite incorrect ones.
A panic thought suddenly flashed through my mind: what if she disappears right now?! But I wanted so much that she shared with
me as many things as possible!
But I understood that this would be exactly the "receiving something for free" against which she had just warned me.
Therefore I tried to take hold of myself, extinguish my raging emotions as much as I could and rushed to "defend" my rightness.
– What if those people just made errors? – I did not give up. – Everybody makes a mistake sooner or later and has the right to
repent.
The old lady sadly looked at me and calmly said, shaking her grey head:
– There are mistakes, and then there are mistakes, my dear. Not just any mistake can be atoned by anguish or pain, let alone
words; as well as not everybody who wishes to repent should get the chance to, because, due to Man’s greatest
foolishness, he values nothing that comes to him gratis or when a gift requires no effort from him.
Therefore, there is nothing easier for one who has made a mistake, than to repent, but to change himself is indeed incredibly
hard. You would not give a chance to a criminal just because you suddenly felt pity for him, would you? But anybody who offends,
hurts or betrays his nearest and dearest becomes a criminal in his heart, if only for a tiny, insignificant fraction of a second.
Therefore, "give" carefully, girl…
I sat very quietly, deeply in thought about the words which this amazing old lady had just shared with me. Only I still could not
agree with her wisdom. An unshakable faith in good was very strong in me, like in every innocent child, and back then her words
seemed to me too hard and not quite just. But that was then…
As if catching the train of my "indignant" thoughts, she tenderly stroked my hair and quietly said:
– This is exactly what I meant, when I said that you have not yet matured enough for the correct questions. Don’t worry,
dear. It will come very soon, maybe sooner than you think now...
I accidentally glanced into her eyes and I felt a chill down my spine... They were the most amazing, truly bottomless, omniscient
eyes of a person who had lived on Earth for at least a thousand years! I never saw such eyes!
She probably noticed my confusion and reassuringly wispered:
– Life is not like you think, little one. But you will understand it later, when you begin to accept it correctly. Your fate is strange...
hard and very light, woven of stars. Many fates are in your hands. Take care of yourself, girl.
I did not understand what all that meant, but I had no time to ask because to my huge regret the old lady suddenly disappeared
and a, shocking in its beauty, picture appeared instead – a strange transparent door opened and a sunlit marvellous city appeared
as if being made of a solid piece of crystal... It sparkled with all the colours of the rainbow. The shining edges of its incredible
palaces or amazing buildings and structures, which one never could see on Earth, twinkled. It was a breathtaking embodiment of
somebody's crazy and beautiful dream. And there, a little human being sat on the transparent step of the fretted porch, a very fragile
and serious redheaded girl who amiably waved her hand to me. Suddenly I had an urge to get closer to her. I thought that it again
was "another" reality and most likely nobody would explain anything to me, as it had often happened before, but the girl smiled and
shook her head as if saying "No".
At a short distance she appeared quite a "tiddler" who did not look more than five years old, at the very best.
– Hello! – She said merrily smiling. – I am Stella. How do you like my world?
– Hello, Stella! – I answered carefully. – It is very beautiful here, indeed. And why do you call it yours?
– Because I created it! – The girl twittered, even merrier.
Dumbfounded I stood with my mouth wide open. Words escaped me... I felt that she told the truth, but could not imagine how one
can create such a thing and tell about it so matter of factly.
– My Gran likes it too. – The girl said with contented air.
I understood that "Gran" was the unusual old lady who had just talked to me so amiably and who hugely impressed me, just like
her no less unusual granddaughter.
– Are you absolutely alone here? – I asked.
– It depends. – The girl grew sad.
– Why don’t you call your friends?
– I don’t have any. – The little one whispered cheerlessly.
I did not know what to say, being afraid to distress such a strange, lonely and charming creature even more.
– Would you like to see something else? – She asked, as if awaken from sad thoughts.
I only nodded in reply, deciding to leave the thread of conversation to her, because I did not know what else would distress her
and had no wish whatsoever to try to find out.
– Look, this was yesterday – Stella said, becoming a bit cheerful.
The world turned upside down. The crystal city disappeared and a "southern" landscape blazing with bright colours materialized.
I was so impressed and surprised that I had a lump in my throat.
– Have you done this too? – I asked carefully.
She proudly nodded her curly red head. It was very amusing to watch her, because the girl was earnestly proud of what she
succeeded in creating. Who would not be? She was a tiny being which created new unbelievable worlds in between times with no
effort whatsoever and changed those of which she had tired, just like that... To tell the truth, it was something that may truly shock
you. I tried to understand what was really happening here. Stella was obviously dead, and it was her spirit that communicated with
me all this time. But where we were and how she created those "worlds" was still a real riddle for me.
– Is there something that you don’t understand? – The girl was surprised.
– And how, to tell the truth! – I exclaimed.
– But you can do much more! – The girl grew surprised even more.
– More? – I asked struck dumb.
She nodded, funnily bowing her red head.
– Who showed all that to you? – I carefully asked, being afraid of accidentally hurting her feelings.
– My Gran, of course. – She said, as if it went without saying. – I was very sad and lonely in the beginning, and my grandmother
was very sorry for me. So, she showed how to do it.
Here I finally understood that it was really her world which she created by the force of her thought. The girl did
not even understand what a treasure she was! Unlike her grandmother, who, I think, understood it very well.
As it appeared, several months before Stella died in a car accident together with all her family. Only the grandmother survived
because it happened there was no place for her in the car that day. She almost went mad when she knew about the frightful,
irreparable tragedy. Oddly enough, Stella did not go to the same level where all her family went, as usually happens. Her body
possessed a highly developed spirit which went to the highest levels of Earth after death. Thus the girl found herself quite lonely,
because her mother, father and elder brother apparently were the most ordinary people who had no special talents.
– Why haven’t you found someone here, where you live now? – Again I asked warily.
– I have. But they all are sort of old and serious, not like you and me. – The girl whispered thoughtfully.
Suddenly she merrily smiled and her charming little face began to shine like a bright petite sun.
– Do you want me to show you how to do it?
I only nodded in consent, fearing that she could change her mind. But the girlie obviously was not going to "change" anything, on
the contary – she was extremely glad to find someone nearer her age, and now was not going to let me go so easily. This "outlook"
suited me just perfectly and I was prepared to listen attentively about her unbelievable wonders.
– Everything here is much easier than on Earth, – Stella twittered, being enormously pleased with the attention provided, – You
must just forget about the "level" where you still live (!) and concentrate on what you want to see. Try to imagine it very exactly and
it will come.
I tried to disconnect myself from outside thoughts and failed. I never could do that easily for some reason.
Finally everything disappeared somewhere and I found myself hanging in complete emptiness. A feeling of Total Peace appeared.
Its plenitude was amazing, impossible to experience on Earth... Then the emptiness began to be filled with a fog which sparkled with
all the colours of the rainbow and gradually became thick looking like a shining and very dense ball of stars. Fluently and slowly the
"ball" began to untwist and grow until it looked like a shockingly beautiful, giant sparkling spiral the end of which was "nebulized"
with thousands of stars and disappeared in the endless expanse. Dumbfounded I looked at this fairy-tale unearthly magnificent beauty,
trying to understand how and where it came from. It did not occur to me that it was truly me who created it in my
imagination. Also I could not get rid of a very strange feeling that exactly THIS was my real home.
– Wha-a-at is it? – The thin voice asked in a wonder-struck whisper.
Stella was in shock, "frozen", unable to move a single muscle. Her eyes wide like saucers observed the unbelievable beauty which
came like a bolt from the blue who knows where from.
Suddenly the air around us strongly swayed and a luminous creature appeared right in front of us. He looked very like my old
"crowned" star friend, but obviously it was somebody different. On recovering from shock and examining him more attentively, I
understood that he did not look like my old friends at all. It’s just that the first impression "fixed" the same hoop on the forehead and
the same might, but apart from that they had nothing in common. All my "guests" were tall, but this creature was very tall;
his height was, probably, almost five meters. His strange shining clothes (if they can be called so) were streaming like a banner in
the wind all the time, scattering sparkling crystal tails behind, although we felt no wind or even breeze around. His long, silver hair
shone with strange lunar halo, giving the impression of "eternal cold" around his head. And his eyes! What eyes he had! I wish you’d
never have to look into them! Before I saw them, I could not imagine such a thing even in my boldest fantasy. They were incredibly
pink and shimmered with thousands of brilliant stars which lit every time he looked at you. It was absolutely unusual and terribly
beautiful.
He emanated a feeling of enigmatic distant Space and something else which my brain of a little child was unable to grasp then...
The creature lifted his hand with the palm turned toward us and mentally said:
– I am Ales [elei]. You are not ready to come, go back.
Naturally, at once I was eager to know who he was and wanted to retain him somehow, if only for a little while.
– Not ready for what? – I asked as calmly as I could.
– To come home. – He answered.
The unbelievable might (as it seemed to me then), and at the same time a strange deep warmth of loneliness came from him. I
wished him never to go away and suddenly I became so sad that I was on the verge of bursting into tears.
– You will come back, – he pronounced in response to my sad thoughts. – It will be much later, however. And now – go.
His halo became brighter and to my huge regret he disappeared.
The sparkling enormous "spiral" shone for some time and then began to scatter and fully thawed, leaving the deep night behind it.
Stella at last "came to" from the shock and everything around began to shine with merry light, hugging us with fairy-tale flowers
and multicoloured birds which her incredible imagination hurried to create, most likely, wishing to be rid, as quickly as possible, of
the oppressive impression of eternity which leaned heavily on us.
– Do you think it was me? – I whispered, still unable to believe in what just happened.
– Of course! – The girl twittered in a merry voice. – It was what you wanted, was not it? It was so huge and frightful, though very
beautiful. I would not want to live there, not for the world! – She confidently declared.
But I could not forget that incredibly-enormous and attractively-majestic beauty which, I knew for certain, would become my dream
forever, and the desire to return there some day will pursue me for long, long years, until one fine day I shall find my real and lost
HOME at last.
– Why are you sad? You’ve done it just splendidly! – Stella exclaimed in surprise. – Do want me to show you something else?
She wrinkled her nose in a conspiratorial way, after which she looked like a funny little monkey.
Again everything turned upside down, "landing" us in a madly-bright "parrot-like" world where thousands of birds chirped loudly
and incessantly. My head began to spin because of this terrible cacophony.
– Ooops! – Stella laughed, tinkling like a bell, – not like that!
Pleasant silence came at once. We "misbehaved" together for a long time, creating funny, merry and fairy-tale worlds by turns,
which in reality did not appear so difficult. I could not tear myself away from this unearthly beauty and the crystal-clean amazing girl
Stella who carried warm and merry light within herself and with whom I sincerely wanted to stay forever.
Regrettably, real life called me to "come down to Earth" and I had to say goodbye, without knowing whether I would succeed in
seeing her again, if only for an instant.
Stella looked at me with her large, round eyes, as if wishing and at the same time not daring to ask me something. I decided to
help her.
– Do you want me to come again? – I asked, cherishing hopes for "yes".
Her funny face again shone with all shades of joy:
– Will you really, really come?! – She squeaked happily.
– I will, really, really. – I promised firmly.
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