Your True Tales
November 2008 - Page 1
Paradise Field
by WR
While I was growing up in Cumming, Georgia during the mid-90s, my father would tell my brother and me stories of his childhood and our family. One night he told us a story that did little to help my brother and I to fall asleep.
The story began with my father telling us that during the '30s my great grandfather had two young nephews who became deathly ill with cholera. Just after dinner, his sister and mother asked him to fetch some water from the well out in the back of the house to bathe the boys and attempt to break their fevers. After he had gotten the water, he told my father that he had heard a faint but steadily growing sound of young boys laughing. He thought this was odd being as the only young people on the farm at the time where the two sick boys. He shook off the sounds and made his way back to the house.
The laughter grew to a crescendo. He looked toward the laughter and saw the two boys aglow with a white aura, laughing and running down the paths toward the fields before fading to nothing. For a moment he stood staring at the fields. While contemplating what he had seen, he heard his sister, the boys' mother, and his mother where crying and praying. My grandfather ran toward the house, dropping the buckets on the porch as he went. He reached the bedroom where the boys where sleeping and saw two still forms in the bed.
My father, as my pawpaw had, claimed that the spirits of the young boys where going to paradise on the other side of the field. Now some may say that my great grandfather made up the tale, and I never met the man for he died around the same time I was conceived (December 1987). I've always felt as though this uneducated, simple, God-fearing man was a man of dignity and honor and had told of what he experienced.
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