“It’s colder than usual this morning.” It was the kind of morning when the sky brims with clouds, as it slowly turns bluer by the moment. Though the scenery plainly seems foreign, the cool green woodland reminded Winny of the long hours she spent freely in their garden. So instead of screaming in terror, she started to wander around, and played with the birds among the trees. 

Being such a kid-at-heart, she was almost too happy until she was startled by a distant cry. She ran to clothe the weeping fellow, and near the spot she initially found herself in, lies a lady with a mantel all over her.

“Oh please, little children remember my name. To name a sinner, is really a shame. But though I am small, do not forget me,” yelled the fellow. From heath to heath, Winny leaped to her aid. The fellow explained that it was a routinely chant as she stares up high into the heavens each day while watching the tips of the great oaks sway. She mentioned that it was the only way to get to a better place. 

Confused and concerned, Winny walked away from the fellow and tripped in soft wet dirt. Suddenly, she found herself in a seemingly flooded pathway that was wreathed with a bunch of people praying for their names. She rambled through them and started whirling around like the others did. She asked a fellow where they are and discovered that she is dead and this is the purgatory. Winny was told that when twilight falls, then comes the time of judgement.

Winny sat still, and thought about what she was doing when she was alive. She made a little nest by the swamp, somewhere among the bracken, and observed how calm the water is. As she sees the woodland again filled with birds, she saw herself springing around as freely as they did. Guided by the soft summer light, she decided to search for answers about heaven.

She walked for a while, and heard a call instantly. 

“Wanderer, wanderer, tramping by, build a shade to shelter you from the shower.” She was by the esquina, instructing Winny about the position she has resorted to. This particular fellow was different from the first ones she encountered. She was dwelling by the corner willingly, just like what Winny was doing earlier in the swamp. The fellow suggests that the answer Winny was looking for can be found a few miles down the road in a place packed with saints.

Delighted with what she heard, Winny was so quick at embarking on a journey to know more about heaven. For miles, she wandered until the roaring wind became quiet. Finally, she arrived in a land where every mulch of soil begs for water — where the sun is too close, and the moon is too far. Winny is at the valley.  She was starting to believe that she wouldn’t be able to see heaven for what it is.

But with an inch of hope left, she travelled a few more distance and arrived in the saint forrest. The sky was so blue and the meadow grass was teemed with lively plants raising and swaying from their slender stems. Winny found a group of people she assumes to be saints. The light slowly dances over their faces, and their faces glow as if they were gems.

Wandering further the saint forest, she found another group of saints that are slightly more illuminated, with a calm look of wisdom and beauty on their faces. They twinkle as the daybreak wakens, cold and grey. They made the most beautiful sound with a mighty rushing wind, as if ascending towards paradise. 

Winny was just filled with joy. 

Suddenly, she woke up from a deep slumber. “That, for me, was the loveliest feeling in the world,” she notes, as she wishes to have that instilled in her memory.

-Karen Tesalona