Which Door?
by Anna Marie Petrarca Gire
She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk
through the door.
He had arrived, flanked on both sides by two shadowy figures draped in a
color she had never seen. It was light in back of them but so dark in
front. She began to have a difficult time making anything out; the shadows
were becoming blurry and beginning to change colors. She wondered what
would happen if she left. As though sensing her thoughts, the figures
dissolved into a light mist and began rising from the floor. She asked,
“May I leave?” No response. The room was alive with sounds and smells, none
familiar to her. As the room began to brighten, the shadowy figures melted
into the wall, at first discernable, then totally absorbed by the paint
which by now was beginning to run. As fast as that occurred the room was
quiet and the walls solid.
She looked around and found there were three doors, all slightly ajar. She
went to the door to her right, looked in and saw nothing but an empty cold
space void of anything to engage her senses. She ventured in, turned around
several times and began to notice shapes forming, odd shapes. Nothing
looked familiar, nothing looked out of place. She began to enjoy this show
of.. what was happening? She wasn’t afraid, she didn’t know how she felt.
Then she began to feel a sense of newness, like a field of flowers just
emerging from a long winters nap. The flowers were suddenly there, her
favorite, stock, daffodils filling the air with fragrant wisps of smells.
She looked further and saw the sun rising over a hill to her right. A
beautiful sun rise, filled with colors that she had never seen. Music was
playing, soft soothing melodies, the likes of which she had never heard.
She was swept up in a feeling of peace and the start of something. What was
this, should she stay or leave? The sun started to drop, the music subsided
and the flowers retreated back into the ground. She backed up and slowly
left the room, closing the door softly as she left.
She looked around and felt the middle door beckoning to her. She approached
and walked in, feeling safe and serene and was overcome with such a feeling
of love and peace that it took her breath away. Here she heard the flute
playing her name. A bright and steady light brightened the space in front
of her. She wanted to stay and have this feeling blanket her with its
essence, Should she stay? Suddenly everything began to return to normal,
she backed up and reluctantly left the room.
As she exited, she looked to her left and began to walk towards that door.
Entering, she saw light and activity. People going from here to there:
lights, familiar faces, buildings that she recognized, a life that she
knew. Was this for her? She looked longingly at this scene and it felt
right, or did it? People began to fade, buildings disappeared, she heard
her name and thought again, is this for me? Backing out of the room, she
again shut the door and stepped out on to the open space staring at the
doors and then decided to return to her book. Finally, she closed the book,
placed it on the table and eagerly and with great purpose walked through
the door.
