the disabled little boy who didn’t quite make it into the light

30 09 2010

What do we understand as purgatory?  Last Sunday, following a tough 12 mile sponsored walk in Derbyshire in aid of the British Heart Foundation, I crawled into bed for 11 gloriously deep hours of healing sleep, but come morning felt like a stifflly starched tablecloth must feel, with no control over its normal fluidity, when I threw back the covers and found my body fighting against  my mind’s command to get up! 

Eventually, of course, we shuffled to the bathroom together, got ourselves washed and dressed and made it downstairs.  I congratulated my bones and muscles, and of course my brain, for getting me through yesterday’s FINISHING line  – even if we had come in last,  propped up by my wonderful daughter who had taken my rucksack from me to lighten the load of that last never-ending mile!  We agree it had been worth all the toe stubbing, heart racing, perspiration making, knee and back aching step of the way – and I was proud of my body’s personal achievement in completing the sponsored walk and said a special thank you to my heart, who’d had one of its diseased valves replaced with a clickety mechanical ‘washer’ 25 years previously, thereby saving our life! I also gave special mention to my T6 vertebra, who’d been squashed a couple of summers ago due to our enthusiastic jumping on a trampoline! 

But did one particular little boy’s life of suffering feel like purgatory?  On the tv came an interview with a nominated ‘Child Carer of the Year’ award and a smiling young boy was shown in photographs with his arm wrapped around his severely disabled brother – obviously unable to do anything for himself, let alone get himself out of bed or go on a sponsored walk.  The two of them shared a very special bond, which was obvious by the love shining from their eyes and when the announcer then said that, sadly, his brother had died last year, I picked up my dowser as I always do, just to check.  Even so, I was nevertheless taken aback when I hooked on to the still-earthbound spirit of that brave child…and as he was surrounded with a vortex of light he showed nothing but gratitude for this buoyancy aid, allowing him to complete his transition to the other side! What he called back, as he was unable to verbalise these words from inside his trapped body, was – “Tell them I love them!” (his brother and parents) – and I burst into tears.

Still snivelling with the rush of empathy and love I felt for him (and all spirit rescuees), I had  just explained to my husband what had happened, when  the interviewer of his brave brother asked him “what would you say to your brother now, if you could?”  His still-smiling face caused me to cover my own with my hands as it contorted in a mixture of joy and grief…and relief.

“Well I think he’s watching down on us and I would just say ‘I hope you are happy!’    I was wracked with emotions and had to leave the room, but when I returned after a good cry, I realised it was not the end of the story…..  

“And so say all of us!” came the encouragement from above as, at 7  mts past 5 on Monday 27th September,  I opened the spiritual gateway once more and clung tenatiously to my heavily pulling, madly swirling dowser until 5.14 pm when it suddenly stopped dead – 400 severely disabled lost souls who had also been stuck inside their own purgatory had now completed their transition to the light –  with, amusingly (and surely just for me! ) one more late arrival who limped over on crutches to make it to the FINISHING line!  And as I watched him morph into a completely healed  soul, no longer trapped inside a body which was unable to serve him, my heart was filled with joy. “‘The Last shall be First! “ came back a reminder…

And in an emailed thank you from the British Heart Foundation the next day they estimated that ‘400′ had participated (and therefore crossed the finishing line) in that mega walk for charity!  ..Hand on my Heart!








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