There is this place, a small, unobtrusive lake. It is fed by even a smaller river which drifts through a lily-pad-riddled miracle of nature. Whenever the opportunity presents itself, time for quiet indulgence is almost compulsory and this is one such moment.
An aged, but sturdy, pier serves as the platform in this wondrous theatre, with space sufficient to accommodate two even older, yet very comfortable chairs.
As a most gentle warm breeze soothes, many of the birds seem to have taken their leave in quest of alternative feeding sites and even those sometimes pesky bugs are absent. The encompassing silence is altered only by the wing-pulsating sounds of one of God’s most favored creatures, the spectacular hummingbird.
In such surroundings, one may feel as if hovering on either the brink of relaxed consciousness or in a dream state. As such, there is a detachment from the clutter of physical awareness; one is no longer immersed in time. Most assuredly, it is inappropriate for a person to be constrained by analysis.
That, by whatever description may be warranted, was the occasion of my experience.
Without even the least surprise, a visitor materialized, seated to my right. His appearance was almost neutral, as one who might have been a years’-long acquaintance. It was so relaxing that I probably would have offered a cup of coffee, but there was none available, nor was there a need.
After a brief period, spent in absorbing the absolute tranquility, he turned and said, “Good morning, my name is Gabe. I have recently enjoyed a magnificent journey. It was, in fact, a pilgrimage of singularity into the soul and the humanity of Miryam, that woman born to be the Mother of God. If you would be so kind as to accommodate me, this is an account that you should hear and, perhaps, share, by whatever means that you find fitting.”
Without hesitation, and unquestionably driven by overpowering curiosity, I said, “Of course Gabe, please continue.”
And so, this is his story….