Free Deep River Burning by Donelle Dreese Page A

and herbs, and on the night stand there was a book with words on the cover in a language Denver did not recognize and a picture of a man sitting in a meditation posture. Next to the book was a small cross necklace stacked in a little gold ball. She wondered if there was a knot in the chain. One evening, after Rosemary came home from the farmer’s market with fresh vegetables, Denver posed the question in a rather forthright and unexpected way to her aunt.
    “Are you Christian?” Denver asked while sitting at the kitchen table leafing through the mail. Rosemary looked up from the colander where she put the clean vegetables and asked, “Where did that question come from?”
    “I was snooping in your room a few days ago and saw a gold necklace with a cross on it.”
    “Oh, I see. Well, I don’t call myself a Christian.”
    “Really? I’m not sure, but I think that makes you a heathen in this part of the world.”
    “Was that not the answer you were expecting?” Rosemary asked.
    “I guess I don’t expect people to be so honest about their religious views. A lot of times I hear a person say one thing, but then do another, or they just don’t say anything at all. So, why do you wear a cross necklace?”
    “Because I like cross necklaces. A cross can be a symbol for many things, not just the teachings of Christ. But I have noticed that people in this area don’t like to talk about their religious views, among other things. Perhaps maintaining the status quo is the religion. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t open the can of worms. Sweep the problems under the rug. Maybe it’s a way of avoiding change. Ritual is a way of life for many people.”
    “Are you atheist?’ Denver asked.
    “No, I’m definitely not atheist.”
    “What do you believe?”
    Rosemary picked up a box of green tea from the counter. “Would you like a cup?” Denver declined. Rosemary put water in the tea kettle, reached into the cupboard for a coffee mug. She found one that said “Delaware Water Gap” on the side with a picture of a green landscape and a gorge. She placed her tea bag in the mug and sat down next to Denver at the table.
    “I believe in the evolution of the soul,” she replied.
    “Reincarnation?”
    “Yes.”
    “What about heaven and hell?” Denver inquired.
    “Well, sometimes I think when we try to contemplate the meaning of life and death, it’s like an ant trying to contemplate the purpose and functions of a bicycle. But if you pressed me for an answer, I would say heaven and hell are right here on earth depending on what you do and what you think. But I do believe there is a place, the other side, where souls wait until the right time and place to be reborn. I don’t think there is anything to be afraid of because it is a place where there is no concept of good and bad, just experiences, and all these experiences help the soul to evolve. Here on earth, we tend to judge everything and create dichotomies and dualisms so that we often have two sides that are at war with one another. But I think we all choose. We choose when we are born, where we are born, we choose our parents and our friends. We choose our experiences, and on a soul level, we have already chosen when we are going to die.”
    “With those beliefs it sounds like you really don’t have to worry about much if everything is already figured out,” Denver said as the tea kettle began to whistle. Rosemary got up from the table with her mug, poured the hot water, and sat down again.
    “In a way that’s true. We worry too much when we should just have faith that everything is as it should be, but it’s also important to learn your lessons and evolve. Otherwise you will continue to create suffering for yourself and others. You will continue to experience the same challenges until you learn what your soul needs to learn.”
    “What happens when you learn everything and you are fully evolved?”
    “You break the cycle of rebirth and work from the other