Muddy “Souls”

“There are no ghosts there are no ghosts there are no ghosts” a tiny child of five chants to herself. “ I am not scared of the dark, I am a big girl,” she whispers. As she looks around, smoky shadows dance spookily around the camping trailer walls. The wind outside howls angrily as if anxiously sensing her fright. Lighting crashes and thunder explodes in her tiny eardrums. It is more than she can take. She plans her escape. She will run to the safety of her parents who are playing cards in the trailer next to her. She takes off, she is there, she bust through the door runs into the arms of her mother and begins sobbing. The caring parents kiss her forehead and apologize for not being there with her. Then her father realizes something. Even though it is storming outside and the rain is pouring down, his daughter has not been touch by the rain. Her silky black hair is bone dry. He sees that she has no shoes on and asked to look at her feet. Her little bare feet have not a speck or trace of mud on them. He asks her if she remembers running over to the trailer, but she does not. He tells me that angels must have carried me. And I know God exist.