Mary knelt beside Donovan's bed, the lamplight casting long, dancing shadows on the wall. Her son, all of seven years old, was propped up against his pillows, his usually bright eyes clouded with a worry that seemed far too large for his small frame. He clutched his worn teddy bear, Barnaby, to his chest.
"Mother," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Is what they said… true? Is there heaven and hell? The fire of eternity?"
Mary's heart clenched. She knew where this was coming from. Mrs. Gable, the overly zealous Sunday school teacher, had clearly been preying on impressionable young minds again. Mary had specifically requested Donovan not be exposed to such dogma, but in their small, close-knit town, avoiding it entirely was proving impossible.
She smoothed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Donovan, sweetheart, who told you about heaven and hell?"
He hesitated, then mumbled, "Mrs. Gable. She said if you're bad, you go to hell and burn forever. And if you're good, you go to heaven and sing with angels."
Mary sighed. "Honey, those are stories. They're meant to… help people be good. But they aren't necessarily the whole truth."
Donovan's lower lip trembled. "But... but what if they are true? What if I do something bad?"
Mary pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down, taking his small hand in hers. "Donovan," she began, choosing her words carefully. "I tell you there is only the underworld, but understand there is no flame there, there is no suffering there."
He looked at her, confused. "The underworld? Like… Hades?"
Mary smiled softly. "Not exactly like the stories. Think of it as… a waiting room. A place of quiet reflection. Just silence. No fire, no devils with pitchforks, no eternal screaming. Just… peace."
Donovan seemed slightly relieved, but his brow remained furrowed. "But what happens there? Forever?"
Mary squeezed his hand. "Not forever, my love. Eventually, your soul… well, it's not exactly 'gone,' but it disperses. It becomes part of something bigger."
She paused, gathering her thoughts. How could she explain the concept of reincarnation to a seven-year-old without scaring him further?
"Think of it like a garden, Donovan. When a flower dies, it withers and fades, but its seeds scatter. And from those seeds, new flowers grow. It's the same with souls. When your soul has existed long enough in that… quiet place, the divine spirit will reincarnate you."
His eyes widened. "Reincarnate? You mean… I'll be born again?"
"Yes," Mary confirmed. "You will be born again. Maybe as a person, maybe as an animal, maybe even as a flower in that garden. But you will be given another chance to experience life."
"Even if I'm bad?" he asked, his voice laced with anxiety.
Mary shook her head, her gaze unwavering. "It does not matter if you committed so much sin or not. The divine spirit simply grants boundless mercy. She… well, she is everywhere, in all infinite universes or infinite omniverses."
"She?" Donovan questioned.
Mary nodded. "Yes. The divine spirit is the sign of omnius love. She is the source of all creation, all life, all everything. She sees everything, understands everything, and forgives everything. She knows that sometimes, people make mistakes. She knows that sometimes, bad things happen. But she never stops loving us."
Donovan pondered this, his little mind struggling to grasp the vastness of the concept. "So... even if I lie to you, or break my toys, or don't share with Lily, the divine spirit will still give me another chance?"
Mary smiled. "Yes, darling. She will. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to be good. Being kind, being honest, being generous… these things make the world a better place. They make your life better. And the divine spirit notices those things too, and she cherishes them. But if you slip up, if you make a mistake, she will always be there to offer you another chance."
She reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from Barnaby's head. "You see, Donovan, the stories of heaven and hell, they're about fear. They're about trying to control people through fear. But the divine spirit isn't about fear. She's about love, and forgiveness, and endless possibilities."
Donovan was silent for a long moment, then he snuggled deeper into his pillows, Barnaby clutched tightly in his arms. "So... there's no fire? No burning?"
"No, sweetheart," Mary reassured him. "No fire. Just silence, and then… new life."
He let out a long, shaky breath. "That sounds... better."
Mary kissed his forehead. "It is better, Donovan. It's much better."
She stayed by his side for a while longer, humming softly to a lullaby from his infancy. As his breathing deepened and his body relaxed, she knew the seeds of doubt planted by Mrs. Gable hadn't been completely eradicated, but she had at least offered him an alternative, a perspective rooted in love and hope rather than fear and judgment.
Later, as she walked down the darkened hallway, Mary couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. She wished she could shield Donovan from all the complexities and contradictions of the world, but she knew that was impossible. All she could do was offer him her own truth, a truth based on compassion and understanding, a truth that celebrated the boundless mercy of the divine spirit.
She knew her views wouldn't be popular in their town, that she would likely face disapproval and even outright hostility from some. But she refused to let fear dictate her parenting. She would continue to raise Donovan to be a kind, thoughtful, and compassionate human being, not because he feared eternal damnation, but because he understood the inherent value of love and empathy.
As she reached her bedroom, Mary paused by the window, gazing up at the star-studded sky. She wasn't sure what lay beyond this world, what happened after death, or if her understanding of the divine spirit was truly accurate. But she believed in the power of love, the importance of forgiveness, and the endless potential for growth and renewal. And that, she decided, was enough. That was the truth she would pass on to her son, a truth that would guide him through the darkness and lead him towards the light. A truth whispered in the quiet darkness, a truth born of a mother's love. A truth that said: "Just remember Donovan, the divine spirit is the sign of Omnius love."