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 Texas : Features : Columns : Spunky Flat and Beyond :

THE VISION

by George Lester
George Lester

I remember when I first heard the word "reincarnation" I thought they were talking about some kind of flower. The many stories I read later and the television shows on the subject I watched were intriguing and amusing but that is as far as they went for me. I never truly subscribed to the theory, but recently the subject came up and while we were discussing the soundness of the tenet I recalled something from the dawning of my memory.

I must have been about three or four. Night after night I had the same dream. Maybe it wasn't even a dream after all, but more of a vision that would play out in my mind as I sought sleep. It always started the same way. I would feel that I had awaken to the sound of people shouting and screaming. When I opened my eyes it was as if I were in some kind of dark tube and I could see an orange-red glow at the end. I heard the squeak of wheels. As the drama played on in my mind I realized that I was in a crude, covered cart. I was frightened and afraid to move. After a while my curiosity overcame my fear enough to crawl to the opening. The sky was illuminated with the refracted light of leaping blazes in the distance. As I peered out I saw an old woman pulling the cart. It seemed strange that this fragile being would have the strength. Some how I sensed that the elderly one deeply cared for me and in spite of her infirmity her only thought was taking care of me and to get me away from danger.

That is where the story always ended. The vivid scenarios were the same, night after night. They never varied and I can't remember when they stopped.

It would be reasonable to assume that this was only a concoction of something I had seen in a theater with my parents. Maybe it was, but many years later when I asked my mother about it she could remember no such movie. Sometimes I wish I could conjure up the apparition again and analyze it in greater detail, but I'm afraid it is gone forever. Anyway, if it suddenly returned, I don't know if I my octogenarian mind could handle it.

© George Lester
Spunky Flat and Beyond - A Memoir >

September 1, 2006 column
 
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