The Twelve Heavenly Gardens

By Paul J. Mirabile

In this page turning novel, Michael Trent discovers a new world. Michael Trent meets new friends and becomes enchanted with the beauty of colors he has never seen before and the sounds of music he has never heard before.

As Michael Trent deals with his inner trials and tribulations he is guided by those of greater wisdom and knowledge.

Soon, Michael Trent learns to accept his new environment and fate. Only at the end of this plot twisting story will the reader understand the true meaning of "going home" again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 2, 2008
• ISBN: 9781465324771

Paul J. Mirabile

Paul J. Mirabile writes his first novel which is sure to please a variety of readers. Before retiring in 1996 from Mirabile Beverage Company, this author worked for his family owned business for over fifty years and was a wholesaler of Anheuser-Busch beer products for over twenty-five years. Among his hobbies, he was a professional inside-the-ring announcer and has appeared on television. He is an inventor and has two United States patents. He also enjoys playing golf. He was born in Norristown, Pennsylvania. He has been married for fifty-six years to his love and friend, Norma. He is the father of four children and two grandchildren. He currently resides in Plymouth Meeting, Pennsylvania and can be contacted at PJMwriter

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Copyright © 2008 by Paul J. Mirabile.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

SYNOPSIS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

CREDITS

Dedications

To my wife, Norma, for her patience with this novel.

To my daughter Carolyn R. Mirabile Giles, who is an attorney in Montgomery County, Pennsylvania, and who edited the manuscript.

To my son Paul Jr., a fountain of knowledge for Gospel story talk.

To my son Joseph and daughter Ann, for their confidence in the novel.

To my friend William Link for his communication about the Bible and his insight on human topics.

My thanks to Pauline Fallon of Fallon Farms in Kingsley, Susquehanna County, Pennsylvania who provided facts on their production of milk.

Sullivan J. Asko Jr., a friend of the author, former recorder of deeds of Montgomery County, Pennsylvania, was present at a social gathering when David Saranoff spoke of the inventor Guglielmo Marconi.

To my wife, Norma,

my love,

my life

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

• Born in Norristown, Pennsylvania, now resides in Plymouth Meeting, Pennsylvania.

• Worked in the family business for over fifty years.

• Retired in 1996 from Mirabile Beverage Company.

• Married over fifty-six years to his love and friend, Norma.

• A father of four and grandfather of two.

• Graduate of high school and two years of college.

• Professional inside-the-ring announcer and has appeared on television.

• Inventor of two United States patents and holder of a United States trademark.

• Author’s first novel.

• May be contacted at [e-mail].

SYNOPSIS

Michael Trent enters the Village of Saint Peter. He is welcomed into the kingdom of heaven by David, the receiver of souls.

He is shown his hut where he is met by a young volunteer who will take care of his needs. Upon looking out one of the windows, he sees in the distance a luminous light. That becomes a question: what is it?

He accepts his fate, and on his many walks, he becomes enchanted with the beauty of colors he has never seen before or sounds of music he has never heard—a place where people and animals coexist in an open environment; some of the animals known and some unknown.

Making friends is all important to Michael who becomes a helper to David. On their visits inside and outside the realm of the Village of Saint Peter, Michael becomes genuinely aware of other cultures.

Come along and hear the laughter of children. Where cows’ milk aplenty in the Village of Mother Ann or the Village of the Cross of Eternal Life or maybe catch a ride by donkey on a trip to the vineyard in the Village of Charity Wine.

Enjoy the luxury of inner peace with Christ as you enter into the wonders of the heavenly gardens, exploring the hopes and dreams of people on a journey in time.

ONE

The Beginning

He remembered banging his head against a hard surface and feeling weak, insecure, and unsure. He reasoned that he must have blacked out, for he was numb, not feeling a thing. He recalled hearing a voice beckoning him, a clear and very gentle voice.

Come, take my hand and follow me. You will not be harmed. Follow me.

Trusting him and taking his hand, he found himself in unexplainable surroundings, his body falling as if through both space and time. Impossibly, he struggled to control what he was feeling, yet what seemed to him an eternity came to a sudden stop.

Afraid to open his eyes because the gentle voice was no longer there, he found himself lying on the ground. He began hearing a sound he had never heard before. He listened to notes and melodies that could never be duplicated even by the finest orchestras. Still paralyzed with a sense of fear, he reluctantly strained every muscle in his body to open his eyes. They were met with colors that his eyes had never seen before, inconceivable hues cascading over a magnificent, never-ending landscape, painting a picture that was so breathtaking in its beauty. He was overpowered, stunned.

Where am I? Why am I here? he thought to himself. Can this be? Dare I even ask, how can this be? He got up onto his feet, looking about his endless surroundings. Then gripped with a nagging fear, he thought to himself, Am I alone? Am I worthy of all these wondrous sounds and beauty? These thoughts and many others of a similar nature boggled his mind.

In the distance, he caught a glimpse of mountains and a luminous light. He tried to fix a position. Were the light and the mountains to the east or to the west? Were they north or were they south? As he continued to gaze, examining the environment, he noticed trees of every shape, size, and color imaginable, causing the picturesque landscape to become even more magnificent.

He started down a dirt road in a direction that led him toward the mountains and the light. Within a short distance, he spotted a young man of about twenty-five walking toward him. He stopped and waited until he was but a few feet away and then ventured to say hello to him, not knowing what this stranger would say or what his reaction might be.

Hello, the stranger replied. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you first arrived. I’ve been a bit busy. Hope you haven’t been waiting long. The stranger was about five feet and seven or eight inches tall. He wore a smile, which spoke of his desire to be of some help. His brown hair and blue eyes lit up his friendly face. He had a quick gait and a manner about him, which made Michael feel welcome in these wonderfully strange surroundings. He was wearing a robe, blue in color, and sandals. The stranger reached out to shake Michael’s hand as a gesture of friendship.

Michael introduced himself to the stranger, properly, using his surname, Trent, and he acknowledged him. Michael, feeling safe with him in his midst, began talking freely.

Where will the north star be after it becomes dark? Michael Trent still felt lost. I can see in the distance a very bright, luminous light and some mountains. Being animated by his now-almost complete trust in his newfound friend, Michael pointed in the direction from which emanated the luminous light. I believe it to be about a day’s journey, but I don’t see any transportation available anywhere. Sir, I have never in my life seen colors or heard sounds that are this mind-boggling. I dabbled in art while attending college, but these hues, these greens and reds, these blues, and these yellows and browns, he continued on, I’ve never seen these before! Please answer me, who are you? And more importantly, where am I?

He began laughing. I never told you my name, did I? I am David, and I am here to welcome you. Perhaps if I had been here when you first arrived, you would have felt a little more relaxed. Listen, I want you to enjoy the surroundings, and then after you’ve had something to eat and have taken a nap, then we can talk.

Together, they began walking down the dirt road in the direction of the mountains and the luminous light, stopping occasionally to take in the aromatic smells and the breathtaking beauty. As the dirt road took a turn, looking into the distance, Michael spotted an orchard. As they drew closer, Michael noticed that the trees were full of fruit. After examining the trees more aggressively, he noticed that none had buds, yet all had fruit. The vast orchard, which lined both sides of the road, contained fruit trees of every possible variety; some of which were unrecognizable to Michael. My, my, Michael thought to himself as he took in the pleasing aroma of the endless varieties of ripening fruit.

Being hungry, Michael asked David if he might somehow be permitted to eat either a peach, apple, or pear. In fact, to tide his hunger over until he had the meal David had spoken of, any fruit would do. David replied that it would indeed be permissible to partake of any variety of fruit Michael fancied, but then admonished him not to take more fruit than he could eat.

Approaching a peach tree, Michael noticed that all the fruits were ripened to perfection, or approaching perfection, and that none were overly ripened. In fact, none were rotten, which might have fallen from the branches. Nor none from any of the trees; the grounds of the orchard was void of any fallen fruit whatsoever. Gazing at the grounds, he was compelled to look directly down at his feet, for they had become wet. He was startled by the fact that a fine mist was rising from the surface of the orchard, apparently to irrigate the trees. This he surmised was necessary, for the sky was cloudless, and somehow it seemed to Michael that it certainly always was. He looked at David for an explanation to confirm his reasoning as he pointed to his feet, but there was no sign of any response from his newfound friend.

Michael decided that he would pick not one, but two peaches. He placed one into his pocket to eat after his nap and bit into the other. It was delicious, the tastiest peach he had ever had. His taste buds were filled with utter sweetness. He knew from that point on, with water seeping from the ground to irrigate the vegetation, with all the wondrous sight and sounds he’d encountered, with the strange luminous light afar off in the mountains, that he was indeed someplace special, but where?

As they continued down the dirt and now cobbled road, Michael contemplated the fact that the young man next to him was in reality a complete stranger and not his friend. He appeared to be a greeter of some sort by his own admission, and they had conversed a bit, yet they were strangers nonetheless. David, he surmised, was trying to make all this strangeness seem as normal as possible, but he still felt uncomfortable, both with David and his surroundings. He continued to feel alone, insecure, unsure. He realized that he was totally clueless as to what was really going on. He became more ill at ease as they continued to walk. David, sensing Michael’s discomfort, assured him that soon he would be more comfortable. David suggested that he be just a little more patient. Michael, despite his discomfort, decided to make the most of it as his surroundings, he contemplated, were indeed lovely.

The scent of aromatic herbs, especially jasmine, began to fill the air. It was a sweet smell. Hundreds of flowers dotted the landscape. White, red, yellow, and blue ones, about a hundred yards in the distance, created a flotilla of beauty. Again, the aromatic jasmine filled his nostrils.

In the distance, he spotted a lake, a large lake, down the road toward the mountains as he walked closer. He thought he had seen an elephant, a rather large elephant at that, on the far side of the lake. He dared not ask David if it was really an elephant that he saw.

Walking closer, the lake was now beside the road, and Michael could see how crystal clear the water was, uncommonly pristine, especially considering the immensity of this vast lake. As they continued past it during their walk, David informed Michael that he could swim in it anytime he pleased. Further he explained that this was a place in which Michael could conquer his feeling of loneliness as he was bound to meet others there that he could befriend. David assured him that he would find the lake a fun place to be. David sensed Michael’s reluctance to repose was not difficult. This had certainly been quite an overwhelming time for Michael, and he needed to rest.

The road took a bend, and continuing the time-consuming task of passing the great lake, and now finally on the far side of it, Michael continued his search for the large elephant he was certain he had seen. Approaching another bend in the road, Michael could now see on the right buildings in the distance. They were too far away to properly distinguish as to what type of buildings they were. The road, now completely cobbled, reminded Michael of what roads must have been like during the time of the Romans, who, under Constantine, became the pillars of Christianity.

As they walked closer to the buildings, David pointed to a barn in the center of a fork in the road. The road split into two: one smaller road to the left, and one main road to the right. A short distance before the main road were huts. Smoke pouring from some of the hut’s chimneys relaxed Michael as he thought of home. He imagined himself alongside his wife, Jenny, spending the occasional cool night, snuggling on the couch with wood burning in their fireplace, its ambers dancing in the open hearth. Coming out of his daydream, Michael became concerned that he was being rude to David, who was leading him off the main road to the right, down a narrow road full of huts. David pointed to a hut on the right. This he explained to Michael would be his hut—number 10. The wooden door was slightly ajar.

Michael entered first, with David a few steps behind. Michael scanned the interior of the hut. It featured a dirt floor, windows on two opposite sides perpendicular to the door, and a fire burning in the hearth opposite the door. A feeling of warmth quickly enveloped Michael. He then noticed a young woman standing beside a table. He was startled by her presence for a split second but quickly composed himself and greeted her.

I’m sorry, David interjected, this is Behira [her name meaning light, clear, brilliant]. She will provide you with food and drink and clean your hut. I will be staying down the road in my own hut. Please try and be as comfortable as you possibly can, and if there is anything you need, Behira here will accommodate you. After saying this, David walked out of the hut and down the road to his own hut.

Turning to Behira, wanting to address her, Michael blurted out, I cannot understand any of this. What is happening to me? Am I out of whack? Am I messed up in the head? Shaking his head, Michael continued, I’m totally confused! I need to know what this is all about!

Please, sit down, Behira responded. I have some food and drink for you. She went over to the fireplace and placed onto what appeared to be a heavy metal plate two small loaves of bread. She placed this in front of Michael, as he had seated himself at the table as per her wish. Quickly, she poured two types of drink into two separate metal containers. Not knowing what they were until he tasted them, Michael sipped both, one after the other. The first vessel contained cool, refreshing water, and the second, a smooth, robust wine. Taking one of the small loaves, he bit into it, and the taste was indescribable. He took bite after bite, chewing slowly to try and discern the flavor with his palate. He knew he liked the taste of the loaf but could not tell exactly what it was; though in all appearance and texture, it was bread. Regardless of the unfamiliarity of the taste, it was very satisfying, so he continued to enjoy both loaves. Remembering he had a peach in his pocket, as well as David’s warning, he took it out and bit into its sweet skin. Looking around the hut, he started to feel some measure of comfort, a sense of security.

You will sleep here in the bed, which I have made up for you, and when you awaken, I will prepare your meal, Behira spoke to Michael in Hebrew, breaking the silence of the meal. She began to walk out the door of the hut but then turned toward him once again and said, Christ be with you, again, in Hebrew.

Thank you, replied Michael, and to his surprise, he had spoken this in Hebrew. Oddly, he understood it and all that Behira had said as if it were English being spoken. How can this be happening to me? I can speak Hebrew and understand it as perfectly as if it were English. Am I a loony bird? He began to wipe tears away from his eyes, thinking, What have I done to be in this strange place? How can I get out of here? Michael needed answers, but he didn’t think that they would come anytime soon. Feeling helpless, he tried to remain calm, knowing that if he panicked, it would only make things worse. He had been gazing out the window, longing for the return of David or Behira, feeling he needed all the help he could get. He averted his eyes from the outdoors, believing that darkness would soon come and seeing this would surely frighten him. He instead glanced around the hut. He noticed the absence of locks on the windows and doors. This fact gnawed at him as he was tired. He needed sleep. His sense of security waning as he struggled to lie down upon his bed, realizing there was little choice;