It was a hot, cloudless day in Tennessee and I was outside the funeral home where the service for my paternal grandmother had just ended. People were standing around catching up on things with out-of-state family members and friends.

Above the chatter I heard someone behind me call my name. I turned and saw my grandmother's sister, my Great-Aunt Lorraine. We shook hands and I mentally noted how cool hers felt in mine on such a sizzling day. I pointed out my husband and children and she turned her head, yet never took her bright, clear blue eyes off me. Abruptly I said, "Well, it was nice to see you again," and turned my back to her. It was rude and very unlike me.

On the way to my Dad's house it dawned on me that Aunt Lorraine had died. I asked my dad and he confirmed that she had passed away two years earlier. Finding it hard to believe that I had actually seen her ghost, I decided to forget about the strange incident.

Back home in Ohio a couple of weeks later, while standing at the stove, I clearly heard my name called again. I went to the front door but no one was there. Retracing my steps I was startled to see on the floor, where I had just walked, a large wadded newspaper. There was no way I could have missed seeing it as I went to the door. I picked it up and saw that it was from my late grandmother's small town.

Carefully I unfolded it. Nestled inside was a porcelain bell. It was white with red letters on one side spelling out "Hawaii". Later, a relative told me that it was my grandmother's bell, and that it had sat on her headboard for years. I knew then that I had, indeed, seen and talked with my great aunt and that she and my grandmother were up to something. But I had no clue why they wanted me to have that bell. For years it sat in my china cabinet with that bright red word turned away. It was not my kind of decor.

Over ten years later, my dad was visiting me and we got into a discussion about God. I knew he didn't believe in any kind of life after death. I had heard him say many times, "When you die, that's when the lights go out. Period." This time was different. He finally admitted that he felt God did exist in everything. Yet, he still believed that when you died, you were simply dead.

Suddenly, I remembered that he had been to Hawaii many long years ago, and I remembered him saying how it truly was a "paradise on earth." I jumped up, got the bell and handed it to him. I told him excitedly that I now knew the meaning behind the bell.

"This bell was never meant for me, Dad. It was for you! Your Mom and aunt sent it to let you know there truly is a paradise after you die!" By the end of our conversation, Dad's belief system had entirely changed. I saw the peace on his face as he accepted the fact that he would continue to live on after death in a place far more beautiful than Hawaii. He died on Father's Day the following year.

The bell now sits with that single, bright red word "Hawaii" facing forward. The blessing of that promised message given to my Dad, a gift from Heaven, now gives me a smile and much joy.

Sage
sage04@myway.com

Posted Oct. 29, 2004