Book Series: IRISH BLUE Author: Sheila Willar Copyright: 2022 Sheila Willar ISBN #: 978-0-9867101-4-8 Book Title: THE CHAPEL Chapter #: 10 - CHILDREN’s CHAPEL
BOOK 1 - CHAPTER 10 - CHILDREN’s CHAPEL
Erin and Lila arrived at Mrs. Mancinni’s, and hoped to start work right away, but as they approached the gate, there was a long procession of cars ahead of them, and more gathering behind.
The stream of visitors were family and friends who were invited for a pre-wedding weekend of celebrations.
The traffic jam barely moved and they estimated it would take another half an hour or more just to get to the main parking lot.
“Why don’t we we get out and walk,” suggested Erin.
“Agreed,” nodded Lila.
They grabbed their belongings and walked up the winding road past the other cars … but as they did, they inspired the others to do the same.
Soon kids were running up the road behind them, chased by their nannies and parents.
“We can cut through the woods here,” recommended Erin. “We’re not far from the meadow.”
Erin and Lila detoured onto a pathway through the forest and at first they were unaware that the others had followed them. It wasn’t until they reached the clearing in the meadow that they saw the line of people coming from behind.
“What are they doing?” asked Erin.
“I don’t know. Let’s go,” urged Lila.
When they reached the chapel, the entrances were lined with pots of Irish Blue hydrangeas, the same ones from Maggy’s apartment.
“They’re beautiful,” exclaimed Lila. “They must be for the wedding.”
Ein sighed.
They opened the side door to the chapel and entered the transept of the sanctuary, where fine particles of dust hung in the air like glitter, and soft beams of sunlight streamed through the windows, casting an array of gold upon the weathered wooden pews.
They stepped ever so carefully and gently towards the crossing, almost on tip-toes, where they hoped that the Irish Blue stone had begun to cure.
Erin and Lila surveyed the restoration work and were glad that the gravel base had not slumped, and that the broken pieces were still intact. It meant that the fragmented pieces of stone would have a better chance to adhere to one another.
However, as soon as their shoulders relaxed with a sense of relief, a runaway convoy of energetic children ran into the chapel and spread like wildfire throughout its interior.
“Hey!” cried Lila who tried to caution them from walking on the repaired stone, but it was too late.
Dozens of children danced right over it, jumping, skipping, and hopping their way through the centre of the chapel.
The kids paid absolutely no attention to the warning and filled the space to the brim.
They climbed over and under the benches and played tag by chasing each other up and down the aisles. They twirled and rolled over the restored stone and even jumped on it with a vengeance.
The more Lila shooed them away the more they seemed to be drawn to it like a magnet.
“Are you our teacher?” one of them asked Erin.
“No,” she nodded as they circled and tried to take her hand to play.
Erin gave in and danced with them for a few minutes, before their out of breath caregivers arrived and dragged them all away.
“I don’t know what to say,” pondered Lila. “I wouldn’t have expected the bonding to withstand that kind of force so soon. The kids put a lot of pressure on it.”
“Is it OK?” asked Erin.
“It’s better than OK. It’s great. Even the smaller pieces held together.”
“Is it ready for the wedding?”
“It’s ready now.”
“Phew!" whispered Erin.
“It’s funny isn’t it?” mused Lila. “Out there ... Irish Blue stone is hidden away, so secretive and priceless, but at the Mancinni’s it just sits here as if it’s ordinary.”
“How expensive is it?” asked Erin.
“It doesn’t have a price. The Mancinni's won’t accept money for it, and they only gift it to places like cathedrals and hospitals. They treat it as if it’s holy … as if it can heal.”
“Why do they think that?”
“Professor Foster says there’s a diamond-like dust that runs through it. No one knows what it really is. It’s not on the periodic table. People say it has a sound, a voice ... but I’ve never heard it.”
Just then Lila’s phone rang but the signal was bad, so she stepped outside and gave a report to the professor about how well the restoration went.
Erin smiled and looked straight up through the chandelier and waited for a hint of a white light to show itself, but nothing happened.
“How odd,” she thought. “When I didn’t want to see it, I did, and now that I want to, I can’t.”
She picked up her bags to leave and walked down the centre aisle, but just before she reached the door, she heard a familiar voice, and by instinct, quickly looked up to see where it was coming from.
The vision was of her niece, who was dancing with other children. They were clothed in light and were laughing with each other, as if they were one with the children who were in the chapel.
Erin held her breath and stood still like a statue, so as not to disturb the scene. She thought that if the children saw her, then the vision would disappear.
Lila approached and looked up at the ceiling.
”Did you find something else to repair?”
Erin exhaled slowly but said nothing.
”The car is ready. We should go."
On their way to the main house they met Astor.
“I’m sorry about the mixup with the flowers,” apologized Erin.
“No need. They’re perfect. Peter’s mother sent them over … along with the invoice.”
Erin cringed.
“Don’t worry about it,” added Astor. “You’ve started a green-trend. Everyone wants live-flowers now for their events.”
“Car’s ready!” called the driver.
“Off you go then,” encouraged Astor.
On the ride back to the city, Erin’s mind was flooded with scenes from the vision she had seen in the chapel.
The sight of the children dancing was captivating.
It had stirred both warm and cold emotions … feelings of recompense and loss … but it was the “look” from God’s eyes, that made her soul stand at attention.
When God “looked” at the children, a stream of effervescent Love and Light surrounded them, and when it did, the stones in the chapel began to resonate and come alive.
It was as if each stone was a unique individual, with a name, a story, and a destiny to be fulfilled.