I've never told this to anyone but my wife. To have had such an encounter and to tell others is not necessarily the first thing one thinks to do. Not sure even how to try to explain its significance, or how this encounter lives within me as a thing. I've thought, who would understand it? It was only meant for me. But it's been long enough I think, and I'll leave others to their own interpretation.
One night some years ago, I was working on the computer. It was well past midnight. The children had been long to bed, and my wife had gotten up only once for a glass of water.
As usual, I had spent the night reviewing books, and articles and putting all my hand notes into the worn keyboard of an old 8088 clone. I study the enemies of our country, and that's no small task.
As I was accustomed to staying up late into the quiet hours, I was usually tuned to hear any sound in the house, and knew exactly when it was the wind or the paper boy, or perhaps a sign that my imagination wanted me to get to dream world. I did not hear the creature though, I felt it.
I'm not able to say why I could feel something before I actually saw. I'm not a scientist or hypnotist or psychologist. I can only describe what occurred that night.
The feeling was actually very easy to accept. It sort of tuned me out to my work and any other thoughts. Kind of comfortably, and yet firmly compelling me.
I found myself turning in my chair where then I saw a radiant creature pass my door in silvery little rushes. It was there a moment, then gone and back again. The wisp of sweeping motions in the dim were all I was allowed to see. It floated, silent and sprite-like as one might imagine. I would have called it a magical being that brings nothing but the self, but that would not have been true. Whatever it was, it was spiriting out in my end of the long hallway.
In one vanish from view there came a long pause. But I knew it had stopped its quiet flicker just beyond the half jarred door. And I waited for it to begin the dance again as my eyes now adjusted to the dimness beyond my amber computer screen. The moment lingered and my anticipation grew until I nearly panted unthinking and abnormal and then I stopped. As though my body deemed breathing unnecessary at the moment and just cut it off.
I couldn't have told you if my heart were even beating, my entire being was afocus. Then, there began the dawning of a face on the vertical horizon from behind my door. I saw a dark almond shaped eye that looked at me, and into me at the same time. However long this lasted, it was a pristine sliver of time for me. This was its greeting. The open hand of a cautious emissary.
It studied. And when it was convinced that I had come fully under and would welcome it, it stepped out from the door, revealing a tiny waifs. The skin was delicate and pale. The creature's hair was deeply mysterious and painted it's face within a magnificent large unkempt mane. A roaring dark fire.
It did not take it's eyes from mine as it gracefully glided before me from across the room. Leaning forward in my chair as I was, I was down and looking strait, and I remember uncontrollably flashing many images of my life up until the moment it stopped a foot before me. Any remaining darkness that took from its expression, faded away in the light of my computer screen, revealing a seeking wonder.
Its tiny arms raised with the fluttering of a delicate white robe, and it put its kind white hands upon my cheeks, gently tilting my open face a little. Now close enough to read a locket's inscription, I couldn't move. And I didn't want to. The creature shifted its gaze about my eyes as though it had found something of great wonder on God's desk.
And within this moment can be found a thing that astounded me for all time. The creature spoke. I am awed by it all when I relive the moment. Because this visitor had a message from God, I know it. And whether anyone ever believes me or not, I do not care. For I will never forget.
It said to me,
"I love you Daddy."
But inside, I heard,
“The purpose of your life is always before you.”
And then I remembered to breath.
Gently it turned to go. It's gaze lingered as fingers softly left my face.
Say it's voodoo or bad shellfish if you want. Call it some manifesting repression. I don't care. I know what I saw and what I heard.