Children of the Source Read Free Page A

cabin we came across in southern Utah.   Saw two fresh graves.  He said his mother and grandmother died of fever.  An old man helped bury them and moved on.  Laith said he had been waiting for us.  I dreamed of what happened three nights before we found him.”
        “Does he know everything?”
        “Who does?  I don’t.  I’m sure he doesn’t.  We all set up challenges, opportunities for ourselves.  It wouldn’t be much of a life if we didn’t.  You’ll be asked your own questions in the years to come.”  He laughed.
        “Any rate, don’t worry about it.   He’ll raise normal enough.  There’ll be surprises.  Maybe more than a few.  You’ll have dreams and find more of your inner abilities coming forward.”  He ran his tongue on the inside of his lower lip, eyes narrowing, looking at me. “Abilities you’ve never dreamed possible.  You won’t be wanting for help and guidance.  It will be there.”  He waved a leathery hand taking in our whole community. “I’ll tell you something, my friend, you’ve got potential here.  You’re building something here with the right people.  Helen, the young girl, will develop into a fine trance medium.  The old woman, Rosa, also has those abilities.”
        “Rosa Guttierez?”
        “Yes.  Everyone thinks she is simple-minded, but you know it’s only a small portion of her whole self.  She created the simple minded personality for a reason.  Her whole self can speak through her body provided you and others are willing to listen.  Let her sit on your councils and watch.” 
        He was tired.   Pushing himself eighteen to twenty hours a day.  But in his wisdom he always managed to find time to dream.  The touch-stone of the soul.  He said he needed the time to participate in group and mass dreams.  To find pathways into the future.
        “Will you stay another day?” I asked.
        He took a great breath and looked up at the night sky, a mass of brilliant shattered diamonds on midnight velvet.  No moon.  I heard him give a great sigh, long and slow.  “I wish,” he started.  Silence.  Then he said, “There’ ll be a time enough another day.  I shall return periodically if I can.  Me or Mary.  Finally one day, God willing, we’ll be able to come back for good.  But for now, we have to take our people and help set up a community where they can live and prosper.  Something more than survival.  As you’ re doing here.  When the people have gotten to the point where they no longer need us, we’ll come home.”  He turned slightly so the light from the campfire lit his face, showing the angle differently.
        I drew in a sharp breath. .   “You’re the one!”  For several years I’d dreamed consistently of an older man, who when I asked, would come to give me counsel in my dreams.  It was like a faucet, I’d always get answers.  Though  sometimes I’d get what seemed like riddles or partial answers which would lead me to ask the right questions.  And I would answer myself or the answers would lie in the correct question or a daily experience.  But always, in every dream I would see the same cast of his face.  I still did it, and indeed, last night I saw him chuckling to himself secretively in my dreams as though at some great joke.
        In the close darkness I heard him chuckle.   It was like the dream and the present were uncannily one. I felt off balance, yet strangely pinpointed.  “Sit down,” I heard him say.  A large hand steadied me, easing me down.  Mike Roseman, a friend, saw us, and started over.  I waved him away.
        I looked up at Charles   He said, “You’ll see that personality differently now in your dreams.   I was party to what you saw, but not the personality.  It wasn’t really a deception, but to impress upon you the idea that this meeting was no accident.  That Laith is no accident.  That none of this is an accident.  The