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He is Real

Carol

Such news, such news! I've been out here, rinding over every nook and valley of this land, missing you, missing Hickory Creek, looking for, well, God know what. It's the most wondrous thing. As they say in the far-east, "koo kalai pai koi," and in the nearer-east "Wa qur rabbi adkhilni mudkhala sidqiw wa akhrijni mukhraja sidqiw wa-j'al li mil ladunka sulta nan nasira."

I was all alone, carrying my carpet bag down a road through the woods when He came to me. I knew it was something from beyond the green veil of earth, a demon, I thought at first, though that recollection makes me wince with shame. He was not white as we have been told but brilliant red and gold and his robes swirled around him in a cloud of sweet and perfumed mist. Such was the power of what I saw that I became afraid, and when he touched me and pressed my face to the ground beneath his foot, I thought I was lost.

But I woke up hours later and I knew that I was found. A boy came along in an open-topped jalopy and took me into town.

Oh, my Lord! My Love! Rejoice and know that he is real. I discovered Him all the way out in Tennessee, but his roots and hooks go all the way around the world. So I've changed my direction, love. He's turned me around. This is no longer a trip of exploration but a True Pilgrimage. I've arrange passage on a cross-atlantic. I'm going to the land of Abraham.

Valencia.

Letters from Underground