Gentling Soul

Again I travel to a time long ago and a place I recognise from my visit to the conclave. I recognise I am existing in the old world of my homeland with, I come to believe, my ancestors—souls I have encountered at the conclave. In this present time travel event, these souls become my immediate family, and I am waking with them early on a cold winter’s morning over a century ago. I am experiencing a past life as Hana, a little girl about ten years old. I am stirring in my bed just before the light breaks open the sky for the sun to shine upon the earth. I jump up quickly, rug up in my warm clothes, and rush outside to watch the golden light rise over the green mountains. I wait anxiously for the light to touch the valley below as I think on today. This is the last time I will see the sunrise in my home country. I will put a picture of it in my mind and place this picture deep into my memory to hold this last moment of my home in my soul forever. I know I will never return to this home, and I need to remember this picture for the many years to come in our new country. As Asina, I have become enthralled in my unfolding regression to a past life as the little girl. I am Hana, standing at her front gate on the side of the hill overlooking the dead pastures that have not been able to feed the family. I watch as the fast-flowing water gushes through the fields and pours over the dead crops. I become fascinated by the rain from the night before as it rushes down the hills to join the flood of water spilling into the river. Gazing into the future, remembering the past, and holding the present moment in my mind, I sadly say to myself, This farming area has been home to my parents, and to grandparents from both sides and their parents and grandparents before them. Now it is time for us to prepare to leave the country where we were born and set sail for a faraway land. But the excitement of starting fresh in a new land is becoming filled with sad feelings of saying goodbye to my family, including Pa’s parents, who I will never see again. My beloved Granny and Papa are being left behind, and only Ma’s parents and her sister will come with us. All my child worries and my child wonders fill my head as I hear the birds waking up and I see the sun peeking through the cloudy sky. “Whatever will become of us?” I cry to Jesus. “Hana, come and eat. We need to finish packing our boxes of belongings and load them onto the carts.” Ma breaks my thoughts and feelings and wakes the others. “Coming Ma,” I call back, running to the house. I help Ma make the last scraps of dry bread into a measly breakfast. She soaks the bread in the warm, fresh milk she has just taken from the only cow that we are leaving for the others in the family. She sprinkles a little sugar on the bread to sweeten the food. Ma settles the family at the table and reminds us, “Now you know Pa is already in Australia for nearly three years. During that time, he has found paid work on a farm that has adequate accommodation for all of us, and he has already paid for our journey across the sea. We have all missed him since he sailed on his own to etch out our future. It will be so good for us all to be together again. “You know Nanny and Pop and Mara are also coming with us on our journey to support me with all you children and to also settle with us in Australia. I want you to be very good for them and do as they tell you as we travel our long journey together.” “Yes Ma, we know all that and yes, we will be good. All I can think about is arriving in Australia to see Pa again,” I blurt out boldly. With great excitement, we all gather the treasures we want to take with us and pack them in the one big wooden box made empty just for our precious belongings. Amongst Nanny’s few treasures, a precious painting of her helper Saint Anthony is balancing against the box, waiting to be packed. Nanny told me that she was given the painting by her mother before she passed. She told me that she will pass it to Ma to protect her and help her family in their new life when she passes. Ma promised she will pass it to me one day before she goes home to Jesus. We leave the table, clean up the kitchen, and pack any scraps of bread left over and any other utensils we will need. We hurry to gather our belongings. We make many trips to the horse-drawn carts and carriages that belong to relatives and neighbours who are arriving to help to get us to the wharves before midday. Ma has told us that our ship sails on the high tide in the early evening. When we are all done, we make our last passage through the gates of our home.