Page 50 - Revelation

Svetlana de Rohan-Levashova. Revelation

woman. I wanted to help her, but did not know how.

The next day I returned home from my friend's where we learned to play the
pianoforte (because I did not have one then). Suddenly I felt a strange internal push,
turned and went in the opposite direction along a street, absolutely unfamiliar to me.
I went for a short while until I stopped near a very pleasant looking house buried in
flowers. A sad tiny girl sat in a small play area. She looked more like a miniature doll
than a child. Only this "doll" was incredibly sad for some reason... She sat absolutely
motionless and looked indifferent to everything, as if the surrounding world did not
exist for her.
– Her name is Alina, – the familiar voice rustled inside me, – please, talk to her...

I came to the gate and tried to open it. The feeling was far from pleasant – as if
I intruded on somebody's life. But I thought what an unhappy mother poor Veronica
had to be and decided to take a chance. The girl turned her enormous sky-blue eyes
to me and I saw that they were filled with such deep grief, which a tiny child simply
could not possibly feel. I approached her very carefully, being afraid of frightening
her, but the girl was not going to be scared, only looked at me in surprise, as if asking
what I wanted from her.
I sat on the edge of a wooden partition and asked why she was so sad. She did
not answer for a long time and then, finally, whispered through tears:
– My mother left me, but I love her so much... Maybe, I was very bad girl, and
now she will never come back.

I became confused. What could I say to her? How to explain? I felt that Veronica
was with me. Her pain literally twisted me up into a hard smarting lump of pain and
began to burn me so strongly that I could not breathe. I wanted to help them both so
much that I decided – whatever will be will be but I would not go away without trying.
I put my arms round the girl’s fragile shoulders and said as soft as possible:
– Your mother loves you more than anything, Alina, and she asked me you to tell
you that she never abandoned you.
– It means, now she lives with you? – The girl bristled.
– No. She lives where neither I nor you can go. Her earthly life here with us
ended, and now she lives in another, very beautiful world from which she can watch
you. But she sees how you suffer and cannot live in our world, but she should not be
here any longer. Therefore she needs your help. Would you like to help her?
– How do you know all that? Why does she speak to you?
I felt that she still disbelieved me and did not want to accept me as a friend. I
could not think of how to explain to this little and unhappy girl that there was

"another" distant world from which, unfortunately, nobody could return and that her
beloved mother spoke to me not because she had a choice, but because I simply was
"lucky" enough to be a bit "different" to everybody else.
– People are different, Alinushka, – I began. – Some have a talent for drawing,
others for singing, and I have a special talent for conversation with those who have
left our world forever. Your mum speaks to me not because she likes me, but because
I heard her when nobody else could hear her anymore. And I am very glad that I can
help her. She loves you very much and suffers because she had to go. It hurts her to

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