world of this library vanishes, and you are right there watching that person’s life. They can’t see you or hear you, but you can see, hear, and even smell what is going on. It’s sort of like the story
A Christmas Carol
, where Ebenezer Scrooge is traveling with the Ghost of Christmas Past. None of the people Scrooge saw could see him either. The ghost told him that it was because all of the people he saw were merely shadows of things that were.”
“That’s all very nice,” said Jerry, “but how did you know that this one aisle was so secluded?”
“Because I come here often,” said Christopher. He walked over to one particular gray book. He picked it out almost instinctively from the other books around it, many of which were also gray. He caressed its binding. “This is my mother’s book. I come here to get closer to her. I open her book, and I’m with her. She spreads the Gospel wherever she goes, and sometimes I’m there with her.” Christopher hesitated. “You know, sometimes I feel like she actually knows that I’m there.”
Jerry walked toward Christopher. He saw the trace of a tear in his eye.
Christopher gently returned the book to its place. “I’ve been doing this for an awfully long time. One of the angels showed me how. Since then I’ve come here. I visit my father’s book too. It is only a few rows over.”
Jerry placed his hand on Christopher’s shoulder. “Well, now that we know it can be done, what next?”
“I guess we make our way to the Holy Place,” said Christopher. Suddenly the youth went quiet. He placed his finger to his lips. “There’s someone here.”
The two boys made their way across the translucent floor to a corner where they felt they might have more cover. Yes, there was no doubt about it—the sound of footsteps could be heard, and they were drawing closer. The two boys remained totally silent, totally motionless. What now? Should they gate out? No, they held their ground.
A shadow slowly crossed the floor in front of them. They held their breath.
Then a young man dressed in white turned the corner before them. He appeared to be somewhat younger than Jerry, perhaps 17 or so. When they saw him, they both knew his name—Jonathon.
“I thought I was alone here,” said the light-haired youth in a soft voice as he approached the two friends. “It’s OK. I’m a friend, just another child of God. I was just two aisles over doing some research when I saw the glow. I guess you gated in, right?”
“Right,” confirmed Jerry.
“Research?” asked Christopher. “What kind of research?”
Jonathon seemed to have to think about that one. “Well, how can I describe it? I guess you could call it detective work of a sort. I’m trying to learn all that I can about this conflict. There are so many wild rumors flying around that I had to come here and find out what the truth was for myself. And I’m here to tell you that the truth is way stranger than fiction.”
“Are you from the city?” asked Jerry.
“Actually, no,” replied Jonathon. “I live on the third level of Heaven, along with my great-grandmother Gladys and my great-grandfather Bud. We have a mansion that overlooks the sea on one side and beautiful meadows on the other. We even have a tennis court in our backyard where I play tennis with my great-grandfather—that is, when we’re not all going fishing.” There was a pause. Jonathon was looking at Jerry in such an odd way. Then he smiled. “You like to go fishing too, don’t you?”
“Why…yes,” replied Jerry, “but how did you know that?”
Jonathon’s smile widened. “I wasn’t trying to pry. I guess it just takes one fisherman to know another one.”
Jerry smiled slightly. “I guess so.”
Christopher thought about Jonathon’s unusual observation. He knew that there were people in Heaven who had an uncanny ability to read other people—it was almost like telepathy. But most of those people had been here in Heaven for
A Christmas Carol
, where Ebenezer Scrooge is traveling with the Ghost of Christmas Past. None of the people Scrooge saw could see him either. The ghost told him that it was because all of the people he saw were merely shadows of things that were.”
“That’s all very nice,” said Jerry, “but how did you know that this one aisle was so secluded?”
“Because I come here often,” said Christopher. He walked over to one particular gray book. He picked it out almost instinctively from the other books around it, many of which were also gray. He caressed its binding. “This is my mother’s book. I come here to get closer to her. I open her book, and I’m with her. She spreads the Gospel wherever she goes, and sometimes I’m there with her.” Christopher hesitated. “You know, sometimes I feel like she actually knows that I’m there.”
Jerry walked toward Christopher. He saw the trace of a tear in his eye.
Christopher gently returned the book to its place. “I’ve been doing this for an awfully long time. One of the angels showed me how. Since then I’ve come here. I visit my father’s book too. It is only a few rows over.”
Jerry placed his hand on Christopher’s shoulder. “Well, now that we know it can be done, what next?”
“I guess we make our way to the Holy Place,” said Christopher. Suddenly the youth went quiet. He placed his finger to his lips. “There’s someone here.”
The two boys made their way across the translucent floor to a corner where they felt they might have more cover. Yes, there was no doubt about it—the sound of footsteps could be heard, and they were drawing closer. The two boys remained totally silent, totally motionless. What now? Should they gate out? No, they held their ground.
A shadow slowly crossed the floor in front of them. They held their breath.
Then a young man dressed in white turned the corner before them. He appeared to be somewhat younger than Jerry, perhaps 17 or so. When they saw him, they both knew his name—Jonathon.
“I thought I was alone here,” said the light-haired youth in a soft voice as he approached the two friends. “It’s OK. I’m a friend, just another child of God. I was just two aisles over doing some research when I saw the glow. I guess you gated in, right?”
“Right,” confirmed Jerry.
“Research?” asked Christopher. “What kind of research?”
Jonathon seemed to have to think about that one. “Well, how can I describe it? I guess you could call it detective work of a sort. I’m trying to learn all that I can about this conflict. There are so many wild rumors flying around that I had to come here and find out what the truth was for myself. And I’m here to tell you that the truth is way stranger than fiction.”
“Are you from the city?” asked Jerry.
“Actually, no,” replied Jonathon. “I live on the third level of Heaven, along with my great-grandmother Gladys and my great-grandfather Bud. We have a mansion that overlooks the sea on one side and beautiful meadows on the other. We even have a tennis court in our backyard where I play tennis with my great-grandfather—that is, when we’re not all going fishing.” There was a pause. Jonathon was looking at Jerry in such an odd way. Then he smiled. “You like to go fishing too, don’t you?”
“Why…yes,” replied Jerry, “but how did you know that?”
Jonathon’s smile widened. “I wasn’t trying to pry. I guess it just takes one fisherman to know another one.”
Jerry smiled slightly. “I guess so.”
Christopher thought about Jonathon’s unusual observation. He knew that there were people in Heaven who had an uncanny ability to read other people—it was almost like telepathy. But most of those people had been here in Heaven for
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