My Purgatory Hell

Chapter 16

"When angels visit us, we do not hear the rustle of wings, nor feel the feathery touch of the breast of a dove; but we know their presence by the love they create in our hearts."

– Mary Baker Eddy

Samantha seemed to be reluctant to continue visiting her parents. After seeing their mourning auras and the sadness that plagued this place of residence, I could understand why. Her love for her parents must be so great that her heartache at seeing them continuously grieve her became torturous. I doubt I loved my parents as much as Samantha loved hers, which was admirable.

I cannot grasp how, but something clicked. Samantha was their guardian angel. They focused on this and she dutifully stood by their side and watched, helpless. That must be the chain weighing my spirit guide down. The only problem was how was I going to break the chain holding Samantha here to her parents. I sensed this was the rationale, but whether it was conscious or unconscious was the real conundrum. I highly doubt Samantha would willingly endure this type of hell, but if I was wrong, it wouldn't be first time.

"I hope you find your answer soon, because I'm not sure how long of this I can take," Samantha wined, reminding me of just how young she was.

Shrugging, I replied, "I doubt it, but I think I've got you pretty much figured out."

Samantha arched an eyebrow with a curious expression in my direction, but did not contribute anything more to the conversation. Instead, her eyes focused in on her mom as her mom sat on Samantha's bed, patting and rubbing her hand on the bedspread. Samantha's mother was oozing sorrow, which made guilt fill even me. Tears streamed down her eyes as if her baby girl had passed away yesterday. After a minute of this sobbing, she crossed her arms across her chest in an attempt to keep herself together. The image was overwhelming to see, let alone in 3-D. The hurt was like a sucker punch to the gut. If I felt this way, I could understand this moment weighed heavily on Samantha. I wondered how often Samantha would find her mother in this position, crying as if she just lost her girl mere moments ago.

"My baby," Samantha's mom cried. "My little angel." Her words were choked up with her weeping, but they came out fairly clearly.

Instinctively, I put a hand on Samantha's shoulder. "It's okay," I tried to say in a soothing tone of voice. Samantha didn't seem to hear me at first because she was frozen in place with her eyes glued to her mom.

After a few moments of silence, Samantha glanced up at me with tears shining in her eyes. "How can I leave my mother like this?" Pain soaked every word that came out of Samantha's mouth. Her eyes swiveled back to her distraught mother. Samantha had tensed up. She wasn't sure what to do. 

How could God, if he did exist, force a little girl like Samantha experience so much trauma?

I saw and felt her anchor, and I could tell now what my place was in Samantha's life, which was  to lead her in the direction she was meant to go--peace. It was time for me to break her chain and set her free.

Taking Samantha out of her bedroom, I sat her down. It was odd to do considering we didn't have the ache people get after they stand for a while. I sat us down it because it was supposed to be a comforting gesture. I wanted to make things right and put Samantha at ease. I took a deep breath before speaking. "It is not your fault, Samantha. Accidents happen. You don't have to be your mother's little angel. You don't have to look over her. Your only job is to find peace," I responded, resting my hand on her back in a move of comfort. "Not to try and console her." I knew it was pointless to say that last part, so I bit my tongue before allowing myself to utter the words.