Clarence - The Astral City

Suicidal criminal! Infamous wretch! I heard insults from all directions. But where were they coming from? At times I caught glimpses of them as they slipped in and out of the darkness. Through my despair, mustering all my strength, I threw myself against them. In vain I beat the air in my show of rage. I heard laughter as they vanished again into the shadows.

Whom could I turn to for help? I was tortured by hunger and parched with thirst. The demands of my physical existence on Earth continued here: my beard kept growing, my garments were beginning to show the signs of my struggles. Yet the most painful part of my trial was not the pitiful abandon in which I found myself, but the incessant attacks of the evil forces which surrounded me in the darkness. I was unnerved and utterly unable to coordinate my situation, to weigh its causes and establish new currents of thought. But those accusing voices bewildered me beyond my imagination.

“What are you seeking, you miserable fool? Where are you going, suicidal wretch?” Such accusations, ceaselessly repeated, threw my mind into absolute confusion. I might well be miserable, but suicidal? Never! Those charges were wrong, as far as I could see. I had left my body most unwillingly, after a desperate struggle with death. I could still hear the last

medical diagnosis at the hospital. I remembered clearly the efficient care and the painful dressings during those weary days that followed my intestinal operation. The recollection of the closing scenes of my earthly days was so vivid that I could even feel the touch of the thermometer and the disagreeable

prick of the hypodermic needle. Finally, my last recollection before my great sleep: my wife, still young, and my three children gazing at me in anguish at the prospect of eternal separation. Then, afterwards, my awakening to dreary

and damp surroundings, to a never-ending nightmare flight.

Why was I being accused of suicide when I had been forced to give up my hope, my family and all that I held dear?

Even the strongest man must come to the end of his emotional powers of resistance. So it was with me. Firm and resolute at the start, I gradually began to fall into long lapses of depression, and in my total ignorance of the fate in store for me, my usual fortitude yielded to despondency. More and more frequently tears welled in my eyes, long pent-up in heavy heart.

To whom could I appeal? With all of the sophisticated intellectual culture I had brought from the world, I could do nothing to alter my present situation. Before the Infinite, my knowledge was like a tiny soap bubble, blown about by the impetuous winds of the transformation. Surely I was not out of my senses! I did not feel different. I felt that my conscience was alert qnd that I was essentially the same man with the same feelings and culture as before. My physiological needs continued unchanged. A gnawing hunger

preyed on my every fiber; yet in my ever-increasing weakness I never reached the point of complete exhaustion. Now and then I came across some wild herbs growing along mere trickles of water.

I devoured the unfamiliar leaves and drank the water avidly. I could stop only a few seconds at a time, for those irresistible forces were ever

spurring me on. Oftentimes I tasted the mud by the roadside, recalling with burning tears the daily bread of olden days. Frequently I was obliged to hide from enormous herds of monstrous beings which trampled past me like a band of insatiable beasts. Those were blood-curdling sights! When my despair had almost reached its climax, it began to dawn on me that somewhere a Creator of Life must exist. The thought seemed to comfort me. I, who in the world had hated all religious creeds, was now feeling the need for spiritual consolation. As a physician who prided himself on his ultra-modern principles of skepticism, so much in vogue in my time, I had to admit I was a perfect failure. Gone was all the self-importance which had seemed so real to my eyes. I saw now that I had to change my mental attitude.

When at last I came to the end of my strength and lay helpless in the mire, unable to rise, I implored that Creator of All Things to take pity on me and come to my aid in my desperable plight.

How long did my pleading last? How may hours did I spend praying like a frightened child? It was impossible to say. I only knew that copious tears ran down my cheeks and my whole being seemed to merge into one anguished plea. Had I been utterly abandoned? Was I not also a child of God, although in the whirl of earthly vanities I had never given a thought to His divine works? I knew the Eternal Father would surely forgive me. Did He not extend His loving care to the birds of the air and flowers of the field?

Ah, one must suffer a great deal in order to understand the mysterious beauty of prayer. One must know remorse, humiliation and utter misery to fully appreciate the sublime sweetness of Hope! It was at that moment that

the dense mist all around cleared away, and a person came forward. An envoy from Heaven! He was a fatherly old man, who bent over me and gazed intently into my face with his large, clear eyes. With a benevolent smile he said to me:

“Courage, my son! The Lord has not forsaken you.” Heart-felt tears seemed to flood my very soul. I tried to express my grateful relief, to thank him for the consolation he had brought, yet I only had the strength to ask:

“Who are you, generous messenger of God ?”

My unexpected benefactor smiled kindly and replied: 

“My name is Clarence. I am only a brother.”

And, noticing my exhaustion, he added: “You must keep quiet and calm. It is necessary for you to rest to restore your strength.” 

Then we called two persons who were waiting attentively, and ordered: “Let us provide our friend with first aid.”

They spread a white sheet on the ground and, using it as an emergency stretcher, prepared to transport me. They lifted me gently. Then Clarence spoke to his assistants: “Let us start without delay. I must reach the Astral

City as soon as possible.”

From the book The Astral City "Nosso Lar" - Chapter II - Clarence