Eve of All Hallows: A Tale Of The Supernatural: Book One The Night Of The Stranger
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Eve of All Hallows - Douglas P. Michaud
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INTRODUCTION
For Freedom Christ Has Set Us Free
-- St. Paul, Gal. 5:1
Many, many years ago I went with friends to spend an incredible weekend at the summer home of my best friend’s family. The home was gorgeous -- right at the waters edge on Lake Winnepesaukee in New Hampshire. It was June of the summer before my senior year in high school, and vacation had just begun. I remember that weekend like it was yesterday. I remember how the feeling of freedom filled the air that weekend. The whole of that weekend all the youth present were on a natural high
. It was a feeling of freedom to the point of intense and intoxicating.
Freedom was with us every time we dove from the boat dock into the cool, clear water of the mountain lake. Freedom energized us too every time we raced each other out to the raft off shore. In the 60’s rafts were everywhere at lakes and beaches, and this one was about fifty yards out at the beginning of a beautiful, broad area of open water. Just on its own out there, not connected or tied to the land, the raft itself was like a symbol of freedom. Once out there we had amazing views all around us -- clear views into far off hills on every side of the vast expanse of the wide-open lake. We spent so many carefree hours out on that raft that weekend -hours that seemed to fly by like minutes. Perhaps it was because all of us were so ecstatic that exams were now done and all worries about grades were now past. A carefree spirit of freedom had indeed seized all of us. It had reached deep into each of us as we dove, swam, talked, and laughed. It was even with us as we just laid out on the raft deck, and silently soaked in the rays of the early June sun. All sense of time and pressure was a distant memory as we lay there without a worry in the world, all the while fanned by gentle lake breezes that glided
over our bodies in a steady, cool, continual flow.
For myself though, even from the outset of this awesome weekend, I knew there was a deeper reason for the freedom I felt, and even upon arriving at the lake, I could think of little else. Even from my earliest years there was always a feeling of freedom when I headed north into New Hampshire. Even from early childhood New Hampshire always meant vacation
, and the feeling of being free of all burdens and cares. Ever since my early youth too, the most memorable vacation each year was always in New Hampshire -- and it was always the same one that my family repeated each summer. This was my family’s annual July climb into the White Mountains. As long as I can remember, some of my most exalted moments of freedom always happened on these hiking excursions in the mountains to the north.
So it was that even from the very moment of my arrival at the home on the lake, I was already reliving cherished moments of climbing each summer. I was reliving too the experience of freedom I always felt heading ever farther north into New Hampshire. Even now in the quiet by the lakeside that Friday, long before classmates arrived, I stood alone out on the boat dock and gazed off beyond the lake into the hills and peaks of the north country. With refreshing lake breezes blowing in my face and through my hair, I savored those treasured memories and relived the freedom born of those moments.
Gazing deep into the north country, I knew the Presidentials
were out there beyond the lake, and beyond the hills and peaks I could see. In the quiet of the lake-side, I thought of how every summer of my youth climaxed with the hiking trip to Washington, Jefferson, Adams and Madison. The annual climbing excursions to the summits of these peaks had become a sacrosanct tradition in my family, and even now by the lake I could hardly wait for the summer hike soon to come. On the summits of the Presidentials
I had so often felt my soul soar and fly, my spirit become unrestrained and free, like an eagle gliding ever upward toward the sun on the currents of the wind. Often on the summit of these majestic peaks, I would sit out even until way after sunset, feeling in the blaze of color in a twilight sky like nothing or no one could keep me from reaching the top of the world
with my life and dreams.
There by the lake-side, one treasured summit memory in particular came alive once more, and I could feel as real once again the freedom of that moment. It was a night on the top of Mt. Madison. A magnificent sunset gave way to a golden full moon rising in the east. I stayed on that mountain summit even until after midnight, drinking in a feeling of peace and freedom as a powerful ethereal light beamed down on me from a now silver moon -- a moon that though high overhead still seemed so close to me on that mountain top that I could reach out and touch it. I can remember the perfect peace and bliss I felt as I lay on a stretch of mountain heather and looked out in the bright moonlight over the vast panorama of the Jefferson Valley far below. While I laid there for hours on a carefree vacation night, beautiful summer breezes blew white puffy clouds into the mountain and into me. The clouds glowed silver and almost ghost-like in the magnificent moonlight, and in the glowing clouds I felt not only free, but powerful -- like Moses in the cloud on Sinai or like Moses before Pharaoh.
Freedom, Peace, Joy, the Power of God, and God himself were so real on that mountain that night. What a magnificent moment that was. What I had yet to realize though is that this Freedom, Peace, and the Power and Presence of God were to be equally as real at Winnepesaukee on that ideal weekend of my youth -so long ago now, and yet for me, never, never to be forgotten.
I remember that my friends and I had finished a great day of swimming and boating for hours and hours -- yet hours and hours that again seemed to go by like minutes. It was on a perfect sunny Saturday where the sky was totally blue, and the open lake breezes were to die for
. It was evening now, and we were just finishing a great cookout over an open stone grill. At that time of my youth a great cookout
always meant a menu that had to include juicy cheeseburgers and char-grilled hot dogs. I can’t remember, and don’t want to remember, how many of both of those items I had already finished, but I do recall being more than satisfied by the tons of food placed before us. Eating gave way to the family and all my friends just lounging out on the wide-open deck over-looking the lake, and as we did a most gorgeous sunset worked the magic of silencing even a group of teens and filling us all with wonder.
I can remember too the soothing sounds of a summer evening engulfing us. I remember the soft breezes off the lake were just right. I remember my best friend’s dad removing the grid off the open-air stone grill, and stoking up the fire for light and warmth. As he did so, we all grew so much more relaxed and gladly continued to sit outside by the open lake into the evening and into the night. I can remember the last glimmers of mauve light on sunset clouds over the open expanse of the huge lake. I remember that the glowing light of the clouds lingered a long time, glowing not only in the evening sky, but also in the perfect mirror reflection that shone off the still, quiet lake. The soft glow from clouds and lake gave way only ever so gradually to the dark, vast sky, filled with millions of stars -- stars as one can only see in open country far from city lights, far from city smoke and smog.
I remember how all of us had become so quiet. We had become lulled into a deep peace by the crackling of the wood in the fire and the colorful dancing of the flames. I can remember being put to rest too as we all began to listen to the sounds in the darkness. We all were so drawn to the sounds of the evening, and loved hearing the serenade of crickets and God only knows what other creatures of the night. The last glimmers of natural light were gone now, and only the wood fire in the old stone grill could guide our movements on the deck along the lakefront. But the deep darkness by the firelight was not to be for long, for I can remember the most awesome quiet that came over all of us, as a June full moon now began to rise over the hills to the east. It was amazing how it began to make a luminous path directly toward us over the open expanse of the perfectly still water.
Yes, the evening was filled with the sounds of silence
, and so many moments of quiet awe before the beauty of God’s creation. But the evening was filled with the fun of friends and family too. Jokes and great stories sent our laughter out over the lake -- laughter accented all the more by the stillness and quiet of the air, the water, and the forest. It was also not too far into the evening before one