Grandma A had a hard life. As Neva J told me, her first husband worked but did not provide for his family, and her second husband was an alcoholic who seldom worked. Grandma A and the kids hunted for persimmons in the woods to have something to eat. By the time I met Grandma A, a few things were clear. She poured the best cold milk into large white porcelain coffee mugs and loved her dog, Nuggett, whom she renamed Narky. Grandma A studied her Bible and prayed, often singing hymns. She had been searching for the secret all of her life.

Grandma A had ten kids. Not unusual in those halcyon days. She had chickens in the backyard and spoke to them as if they were children. We spent Christmas at her house. In my days of youth, the food was spilling from the horn of plenty. There was more to eat than we could eat, but we tried our best. On full bellies, we discussed the mystery of the secret. We all wanted to be ready, but ready for what? Were we going to do as the old hymn said, ‘I’ll Fly Away?’ Was there a door at the end of a long hall? Would our loved ones who had gone before us escort us to the Secret? Or was it the quiet solitude of deep sleep that never ends?

‘Dad came to the foot of my bed last night and said he was going to take us to the Veil that separates us from the Secret,’ Chet said. ‘Dad mentioned that we could not come in the opening of the Veil, but we could peek around the corner of it to get a glimpse of what awaits us,’ Chet said with a wide grin. ‘When I asked Dad what it was like on the other side of the Veil, he whispered it was unlike anything that anyone living had imagined,’ Chet noted with a wink. ‘He went on to say that the scripture, ‘Eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither has it entered into the hearts of men that things that God has prepared for them that love him,’ was more true than he could explain. ‘When I asked Dad if he was a dream or really at the foot of the bed, he tickled my toes,’ Chet laughed.

‘Come in and rest awhile,’ the Preacher said. ‘Soon we will begin the lesson again for the newcomers,’ the Preacher added. ‘We are in the waiting room, the vestibule…the foyer of the Secret,’ the Preacher noted with a grin. ‘We walked through the door and hung up our coats and cloaks, and the host was beckoning us to come in,’ the Preacher laughed. ‘We imagine and exposit and create dogmas and doctrine to explain the Secret…while we have not seen it,’ the Preacher explained. ‘See the spotlight on you…you are on stage in the foyer to play your part well or poorly,’ the Preacher smiled. ‘We all are players in life’s performance, and we learn our lines as we go along the path,’ the Preacher chuckled. ‘Some of the lines are tongue twisters,’ the Preacher winked.