Bradford Lad: Where All The Good Souls Go
Mike Coatesworth learns another valuable lesson from his Aunt Chrissie.
Well autumn has set in, and the night spreads its dark blanket earlier all over Yorkshire as we head for winter.
I remember as a lad returning from Sunday School to ask questions of my aunt Chrissie. I informed her that we had just been told that every living thing has a soul. I asked if this included the leaves on the trees, and if it did how could God cope with the thousands of souls which were all entering heaven at the one time.
"Where do you get these questions from? my Aunt asked, surprised. "You sure have an inquisitive mind.
She knew though that I was asking what I thought was a very serious question. After some thought she gave me a big hug and said that what we had been told at Sunday School was correct. Every living thing did have a soul. And God wouldn't handle everything at once. Souls already in heaven were required to look after newly arriving souls.
With my head resting on my Aunt's shoulder I mused over her reply. "What happens if souls are asked to look after souls which they do not like?''
My aunt replied that only good souls enter heaven. There are no likes or dislikes.
"How do the souls stay in the sky?'' was my next question. "Why dont they fall to the ground?''
My aunt replied that all good souls turned immediately into angels. They therefore had wings and could live on clouds which were their houses in the sky.
"So where do the bad souls go?'' I asked.
My aunt was working overtime that day coping with my queries. She explained that all the bad souls lived in the black clouds. The rain that fell from the black clouds was the tears of the bad souls who were wishing that they had been good, and that they were on white clouds with the sun shining on them.
I thought carefully about what she told me. Then I asked how bad souls managed to stay in the black clouds when only good souls got wings.
My aunt lifted me off her knee and stood me in front of her. There were lots of things we could ask questions about, she said, but in some cases there were no answers.
Later that day I lay on the grass, looking up into the sky. There were small white clouds floating by, but there were dark clouds approaching, and there seemed to be more dark clouds than white clouds.
My aunt came out to join me, feeling her way around because she was blind. I knew then that if she died God would prepare a very special white cloud for her.
