The Space Between Stars • The Spirit Speaks of the Soul

One
The Spirit Speaks of the Soul
JUNE 1995

IT WAS AS IF HE WERE SEEING THE STARRY HEAVENS AS A shooting
star would if a star had eyes. At first, Stephen sped through space
at such a rapid speed that the stars were a blur of streak lines. He
suddenly slowed down to a near standstill, and he began moving
in slow motion. He was floating in space as noiselessly and effortlessly
as a helium-filled balloon being carried aloft by a gentle summer
breeze. A framed doorway appeared. An earth-mother stood
within it. She was a Native American wearing a beaded deer-skin
vest and skirt. Her long ebony-colored hair glistened. Her face was
welcoming and happy.

Another framed doorway appeared as he continued his journey
through space. In this portal there stood a beautiful young woman
with long chestnut-brown hair. She wore a full-length black skirt,
high-buttoned black shoes, and a cream-colored high-collared
blouse with long sleeves. Her arms were raised above her head
while she attempted to pin up her long locks into an ample bun.
Her hair style and apparel appeared to be Victorian. There was a
slight resemblance to old sepia-colored photographs of Stephen’s
maternal grandmother.

Suddenly, he felt himself speed up. He was hurtling through
space toward a distant doorway. It was empty and dark as though
it was only a door frame suspended in the star-speckled darkness
of space. No mother-figure was present in this one. He sped
through it and came to an abrupt halt. At first, he felt encased in
a small body. His tiny arms and hands were grasping for something
to hold on to in order to feel some stability. He felt as if the tiny
body was floating in a warm liquid. Without warning . . .