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Stairway to Heaven

The Beginning
The traveler breaks free from the tangled undergrowth of the Forest. After a long and
arduous journey he finally stands upon the edge of a vast and open land. The wood he has just
left snarls and grumbles behind him and its boughs and leaves bristle together; they scratch out
his name and call him back. He hurries ahead to a safer vantage point and turns to look back.
The Forest stands there, dark and sinister, deeply foreboding and yet strangely tempting. It was
all he had ever known and all that he thought he would ever need. It used to be his home. But
now it is his enemy.
With a conscious set of his shoulders Pawel turns away from what once was and looks
out upon on what might be. Before him lies the Plain that he so long ago set out to find. When
he was still living deep in the Forest he had heard the stories told at night around the fires of his
home village; stories of a magical place at the end of the trail that ran between the villages.
This trail, the Path, as it was called, connected all the villages in the Forest one to another. The
Path was believed to enter the Forest from the West and continue straight through until it left
the Forest in the East. It was told that in the ancient days the Path was straight and its way sure
and true, but over time the villagers had ceased using it to navigate their way through the Forest
and it had grown twisted and circuitous. Pawel had been told that in days of old a man could
walk the Path straight through the Forest and find his way to the Plain of Life. Once on this
magical Plain a man would find true freedom and a Stairway to Heaven. Pawel loved to hear
the old men talk of the days that went before. He smiled when they told how traveling the Path
was meant only for finding the magical Plain. He giggled when he heard them tell the stories of
men climbing the fictional Stairway to Heaven. And he laughed out loud when he heard them
tell of men actually finding a better and more perfect home in a place called Heaven.
But over the years as Pawel traveled the Path seeking his fortune and his own pleasure
he had time to reflect upon the stories he had heard. The question of their historicity began to
plague him and he started to search for evidence of their truth. He examined the Path beneath
his feet and its many byways and excursions. He was surprised when he found evidence of a
primary road that seemed to travel straight through the Forest. It was all but indistinguishable
from the many tangential and circular paths that went in and out of the villages and markets,
but it was there. He began to systematically map out the many parts of the Path and with great
care examined his work to find if there was indeed one true Path as the evidence suggested, and
if it might lead him out of the Forest. Having proven enough to satisfy his initial curiosity
Pawel decided to set out from his home and discover where this one true Path might lead. With
only the stories of long ago as his guide Pawel embarked on a quest to find the lost Plain of
Life. His journey took him many, many years and he encountered much strife. He passed
through Forest lands that he had never before even imagined. He hazarded pits and traps that
threatened to kill him at his first misstep. But he stayed true to what remained of the original
Path and he always found his way through each difficulty.
And then this very morning Pawel looked out through the last trees of the Forest and
glimpsed for the first time the wonder of the open sky. He saw sunlight without the filter of the
Forest’s ever present canopy of branches and leaves. In pureness of joy Pawel leaped forward
and burst through the remaining undergrowth and the dangerous last tangle of vines and brush
that reached out to hold him back. He stopped short as he cleared the trees and gazed in wonder
at the oppressive openness of the Plain before him. Oddly enough, he felt choked by the weight

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of the sky pressing down upon his head and shoulders and he found himself fearful of the
vastness of the land that stretched for miles beneath his feet to the East.
The Path continued on its way out of the Forest in a straight line to the middle of the
Plain. It raced away from him toward its destination as an arrow flies to its mark. As far as his
eye could see the Path was unmarked by detour or byway. At its end Pawel could just make out
a slender monument, a silhouette really, of something that stood incredibly tall, for even at the
distance from which Pawel took it in, it seemed to touch the sky. Pawel shuddered to think that
what he now saw might in reality be the forsaken Stairway to Heaven that the old men spun
tales about. With the Forest snarling behind him, cursing him for his escape, and the fearsome
unknown of the Plain before him, Pawel determined to press on, to follow the Path and, if
possible, to find his way to Heaven.

The Cottage
Squaring his shoulders once again Pawel turned up his collar against the wind that
whipped him from the Plain. The sun was just setting as he ventured out onto the Path and
began to wonder where he would find shelter for the night As if in answer to his need Pawel
saw a small house ahead and just off the Path. He had overlooked it before when he first took in
the Plain; in all of the vastness and majesty of it, the small house was almost indistinguishable.
As Pawel approached, a tiny man opened the door and raised one arm in greeting. Pawel smiled
in spite of himself at the relation of the man to his house and to the Plain. The man was
perfectly proportional to his tiny house but vastly overwhelmed by the hugeness of the Plain.
Pawel struggled to remove his smile; he was in need of shelter and it would do no good to upset
the only possible host he would likely meet. Pawel hurried to the house and stepped off the
Path to return the man’s greeting.
“Stop right there young man,” the tiny man bellowed. His voice was thunderous and it
startled Pawel. Pawel stopped short and quickly stepped back onto the Path.
The man stepped out of his doorway and walked up to Pawel. He approached quickly
and somewhat menacingly. Pawel had to struggle once more to control his surprise at being
frightened by such a diminutive person and then menaced by him as well. The man walked
right up to Pawel and stood directly before him, his tiny robes swirling in the wind around
Pawel’s legs. The man stared silently up into Pawel’s face, his head only reaching to Pawel’s
midriff. The man sniffed. He sniffed again. He reached up with both of his small hands and
pulled Pawel down by the ears. Pawel was too shocked to resist and allowed himself to be thus
beckoned.
“You are Pawel, I take it?”
Pawel could not bring himself to speak, he did not yet trust his voice; he simply nodded
his affirmative.
“You have no tongue, boy?” the man bellowed once again. “You speak when I address
you!”
Pawel was once again startled and once again began to laugh inwardly at the absurdity
of the situation he was now in. He managed to say, “Yes; I am Pawel.”
The man released Pawel’s ears and stepped back from him. He turned on his heel and
motioned Pawel to follow. Pawel obeyed, it would be better to spend the night in this man’s
house than out in the cold of the Plain, even if the man was a bit overzealous and self
important.

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The man’s house was small. It was a cottage style dwelling of only one story and a
pitched roof that was covered in grass cut from the wide Plain. The house was distinctly
colorless except for its front door which stood in stark contrast to the monochromatic scheme
of both the house and the Plain. It was as if the builder had wanted to make sure that this
building would not be a distraction from the view of the Plain and its center jewel, the tower, or
as Pawel suspected, the Stairway. The door was recessed into the jamb the width of a man’s
body and so was not readily visible to the approaching traveler. When Pawel neared it he
wondered at its vibrant hue, for it had been recently painted a deep, deep, red. It was a small
door, suitable for the man and this house and Pawel had to bend low to enter when the man
turned the knob and called for him to follow. Pawel took a last look at the Plain and, stooping
forward, entered into the man’s home.
“Welcome, my friend,” the man said as he reached to take Pawel’s satchel and his
traveling cloak. “You have done well to make it this far and I have much to tell you concerning
the journey that yet lies ahead.”
Pawel smiled at the man’s softer tone, and was inwardly relieved that the man had
altered his demeanor. While the man was hanging his things on the hooks by the door Pawel let
his eyes take in his strange surroundings. The interior of the house was devoid of furniture save
a single bed with mattress and thin coverlet and a small table with two chairs. The walls were
bare of ornament and device. The floor was stripped of carpet, but gleaming with the well worn
patina of many scrubbings and the passage of many feet. All four walls of the home were
readily visible and Pawel could see the Plain stretch before him from the three windows that
faced north, south, and east, The door through which Pawel and the man had entered faced west
and was closed tight against any view in that direction. Pawel was drawn to the window on the
eastern wall and went to it. Through its single pane he could see the impressive form of the
monolithic Stairway off in the distance. It was shining in the sun, reflecting the last rays of the
day and burning from the bottom up as the sun set, appearing at the last to resemble a candle
flame slowly burning atop its slender taper. He was lost in this vision until he felt the touch of
the man’s hand at his elbow.
“You must turn away for now, friend. The time is coming when you will not only
wonder about that Stairway but will climb it. And you will not only climb it but ascend to its
very top.” The man was staring intently up into Pawel’s face and Pawel returned his gaze for a
moment before once again smiling at the stature of the man before him and the irrationality of
the setting he found himself in.
“You find it hard to accept what you see Pawel?” the man asked.
Pawel swallowed his initial response and said, “I thank you for taking me in tonight. I
was afraid of sleeping out on the Plain and I didn’t want to go back to the Forest. Please excuse
my smiling at you, I really mean no disrespect. You have been very kind to take me in.”
‘I am only doing what I have been told to do, and nothing more,” the man snapped. “I
have had many visitors over the years, and they have all responded to me in the same manner.
Travelers are always the same this close to the Forest. They have just begun to see the world
that lies outside and they have not yet begun to understand it. You are still looking at what you
see with the eyes of the Forest. I am here to show you how to see the world as it really exists,
the world that is on the Plain.”
The man turned on his little heel and went to the table. He sat silently in one of the
chairs and beckoned Pawel to take the other. Pawel obeyed. The man produced a box from the
folds of his robe and placed it before Pawel on the table. With his hands on either side of the

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box he said, “You have learned well in the Forest Pawel. You have learned that there is another
way to travel upon the Path and that all in life need not be tangled and twisted. You are tired of
the well worn ways of your fathers and have begun to seek out the truth that they have
forgotten. You are looking for the truth that lies hidden in the old stories. You are looking for
the truth of life. But you will not find it as you are today, my friend.” Here the man paused and
snarled at Pawel, hissing through his teeth and saying, “You are not man enough to realize this
quest you have undertaken.”
Pawel was caught off guard by the man’s blatant charge against him. He had come too
far to hear only that his journey was to be fruitless. His confusion quickly turned to frustration
and his frustration escalated to anger. He stood abruptly and said, “I should have known that
this would prove to be a joke. I knew at first sight that you were a waste of time.” Pawel’s
anger coursed through him in waves. He was momentarily surprised at the force of his words.
He was faintly aware of the disproportionate violence of his words to the man’s simple
declaration. But he refused to listen to that voice that was shaming him and he stormed to the
door and opened it wide to the blackness of night on the Plain.
The man spoke from where he was seated on his chair before the small box, “You need
new eyes my friend.”
Pawel laughed out loud and forcefully removed his satchel and cloak from their hooks.
The man spoke again, “You need new eyes to see that which you cannot see right now.
You need new eyes in order to see anew what you think you have understood all of your life.”
Pawel stopped in the doorway and turned to face the man. Seeing the man so quietly
seated on his little chair in the midst of the little room speaking so softly to him calmed him
enough to give him pause to reconsider his actions. He did not know now what it was that had
angered him so much. He only knew that he had risen quickly to a fevered pitch of anger and
that he would have ignorantly stormed off into the night, perhaps to be swallowed up forever in
the encroaching darkness of it. As he stood looking alternately between the man and the Plain
Pawel’s countenance changed. His anger faded back to frustration and his frustration returned
to mere confusion. He asked, “Who are you?”
The man smiled a smile that seemed too big for his tiny head. “They don’t always turn
back to me, you know. I was right; you will make it to the Stairway after all.” The man rose
and went to Pawel with outstretched hand, “I am the Mentor. I go by many names to many
people, but to you I will simply be Friend. Please, come back to my table and sit with me
before you turn in for the night. There are things I must tell you that you need to hear before
you continue on in the morning.”
Pawel returned with Friend to the table and meekly sat down once more. He waited for
the man to continue.
“As I have said, you must be given new eyes through which to see, Pawel. Those eyes
that you have now are faulty. They see things too darkly, without color. They see things that
aren’t there and they overlook the things that truly are. If you will trust me, if you have the
faith, I will help you to correct that dangerous oversight, if you will pardon the pun.”
Friend reached forward and placed his hands one on either side of Pawel’s head. Pawel
felt the warm softness of the man’s small fingers caressing his temples and smoothing back his
long hair. Without warning Friend plunged his thumbs deep into Pawel’s eye sockets. Pawel
yelped at first in sheer surprise but then screamed in earnest as the man’s thumb nails dug
deeper and deeper behind his eyeballs. Pawel tried desperately to pull himself away from
Friend’s grasp but the man’s hands were as vices, clamped to either side of his head as if

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screwed down tight. Pawel pulled back as hard as he could just as the man’s thumbs found their
purchase and plucked their treasure from the sockets of the unsuspecting traveler.
Pawel stood uneasily, wavering on his feet from the shock of what had just happened,
but eerily aware that he felt no pain and could feel no blood running from his eyes as he had
feared. “What have you done, you crazy dwarf? I can’t see a thing!” It was true, Pawel was
unable to see anything, it was as if the world had vanished and he was alone in the darkness.
There was no answer from the Friend and Pawel frantically began trying to feel his way back to
the table. With arms outstretched Pawel tentatively stepped forward, moving his arms side to
side and up and down, trying to find some point of reference and therefore some sense of
security.
“This room is not very big,” he said, consoling himself, “if I just walk forward I will
come to the wall in a few steps.” Pawel stepped forward again with a tentative, terrified step.
He continued to move his arms as methodically as he could in his increasing panic. He took
another step, and then another. Still not coming to the wall, Pawel’s reserves of courage drained
and in a rush he ran forward, not caring if he smashed headlong into the solid wall, as long he
found something that he could hold onto as being of the world that he feared had left him
entirely. But there was nothing to be found. Pawel ran and ran, changing directions as
frequently as his growing alarm drove him. In a last frenzy of distress and despair Pawel
stopped stark still and, raising his hands to the heavens, released a primordial scream of terror
and helplessness. He sank to the ground, hugging the last remnant of his reality in abject misery
and loneliness, and wept.
“Are you ready for your new sight, my friend?”
Pawel was not sure if he had imagined the voice, but pulled himself to his knees and
tried to quiet his sobbing so he could hear it if it spoke again.
“I say, are you ready, my friend?” the voice spoke again.
“Is someone there?” asked Pawel.
“Stand up, man, and come to me. I can give you what you seek, but you must come on
your own two feet.”
Pawel stood and turned in the direction of the voice and began to move toward it. He
was deeply afraid of moving away from the place where he had fallen because he did not want
to lose again his only hold on the known. To venture into the unknown again was terrifying.
“Come to me, Pawel,” the voice said again.
Pawel brightened at the sound of the voice and moved more quickly toward it. After
what seemed a journey of great length Pawel met the figure of a man in his path. “Oh, thank
goodness, you are here. That man, he took my eyes and I can’t see, and I am lost, and there is
nobody here,” Pawel’s words came out in a jumble and he fell forward into the robes of a giant
of a man, whose arms quickly wrapped him up inside of their strength and made him feel safe
and secure.
“You were never alone, my friend,” said the voice. The voice of the man was strong,
like his arms, yet there was something familiar about it. “I have been here with you the whole
while. It is just the nature of your sight, Pawel, that has caused you to be blind. Everyone sees
these things in a different way. You have seen them as a great emptiness, and as a terror. Others
see them as a fire and horrific burning. Still others find themselves drowning on the sea with no
help nor land to save them. You have seen only that which surely awaits you if you do not learn
to see things the way they must surely be.”

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“But, the man, he took my eyes! His thumbs, they dug my eyes out. I screamed and
pulled away, but he dug my eyes right out of my head and left me all alone. And he called me
friend! Why did he do that?” Pawel did not remove himself from the man’s robes but stayed
buried tight within the comfort of his folds.
“Your Friend only touched you on your head to prepare you for what you must see.
What you felt and saw is only what you have in store for yourself.”
Pawel did not believe this man, and pulled away from him. He lifted his hands to his
eyes and felt his sockets tenderly. Both of his eyes were still in place, both of his eyes seemed
to be just fine. “But I still can’t see. What did he do to me then, if I still can’t see?”
“The Mentor showed you what is surely be ahead of you, unless you choose to partake
of the sight that he has offered to give you. Do you wish to take his gift?”
Pawel remembered the Mentor’s words, that it would take great faith to see things as
they really be. He reached out blindly for the man’s hands. He felt their strength and gripped
them tightly with his own. He said, “I want to see.”
“Then sit back down with me and I will show you your new eyes.”
Pawel felt himself slip into a chair and felt the table once again before him. He heard
the sound of the man sitting opposite him and the lid of a wooden box slowly being opened.
The man spoke, “What I give to you today, you must never forsake. I give you the knowledge
of good and evil and the sight to distinguish between them. With these eyes you will look upon
the world as it truly is. You will see a world devoid of the distractions of man. You will see
wickedness and know it for its fruit. You will see true goodness and see it glisten in the sun of
Heaven. You will know, Pawel, things that man has struggled to understand for ages upon ages.
But the choice to believe what you will now see will remain forever yours. As your Mentor,
and as your Friend, I counsel you to stay on the Path of Life always and never forsake its
ways.”
Pawel felt the tiny man’s hands once more on either side of his head and for a moment
thought he might bolt away. He forced himself to remain and swore afterwards that the man
pressed new eyeballs into his empty sockets. He felt them pop into the cavities and felt the
muscles and nerves reconnecting in a fiery sensation of light and heat. When he opened his
eyes he was alone in the small room, seated at the table, with a change of clothes draped over
the chair opposite him. He breathed a long low sigh of relief at being able to see and paused to
give thanks, to whom he was not sure, for the gift.
Pawel let out his breath a final time, gathering his strength for what was still in store for
him. “If this is what happens when you first enter the Plain, what on earth might happen when I
get out into the middle of it tomorrow?” Pawel stood slowly, testing his feet upon the floor and
stretching, his fingers scraping the low rafters of the tiny cottage. With a last look out the
window at the dying sun upon the Plain Pawel laid himself down upon the bed and was quickly
asleep.

Provision
In the morning he was wakened by the sound of the wind whipping over the tops of the
prairie grass and the warmth of the sun upon his face. Rising quickly and feeling as refreshed as
he had felt in years Pawel hastily discarded his weary traveling clothes and donned the new
robe he found upon the chair. In two strides he was at the door where he found a small wrapped
parcel and a tall walking staff. The staff was worn but the parcel looked to have been wrapped
recently. Carefully untying the string which held it bound Pawel uncovered a thick leather

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skinned book. The cover of the book was embossed with the word “Guide” and its spine was
marked with a tiny golden symbol. Inside Pawel found the day’s date and an empty page. Each
subsequent page was empty save for a date and an even smaller version of the symbol he found
on the spine. As Pawel returned to the first page, pondering the strange emptiness of the book
he was startled to find that there were now words written on that formerly empty page.
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
Pawel read the magical words over and over and each time he seemed to understand them a
little more. Once more there appeared new words upon the page. This time they said, “All
things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has
come into being.” Pawel started at these words and sat at the table placing the Guide before
him. He spent a considerable amount of time in this way, reading and rereading the words on
the page and wondering at the new words as they continued to appear. He read of the strange
man called the Word, of His coming to the world in the flesh, and of His calling all men to
become His own children through belief in His name. “But who is this man?” Pawel asked. “If
man he be, for it says that He is also God, and that He has always been God.” Pawel scratched
his head in wonder, thinking to himself that he would like to be called a child of God, if he
could only meet this man in whom he was first to believe.
But how to meet the Word? Pawel did not know, and the words seemed to have stopped
appearing, so with a sigh, Pawel shut the book. Standing once more, Pawel decided that he
would continue on with his journey. He had initially set out to find the mysterious Plain of Life
and had actually found it. The Stairway was apparently real, and everything that had happened
inside of this cabin had only affirmed for Pawel that his mission must continue. Picking up the
Guide and the walking stick, Pawel went to the door and opened it. Stepping out into the
brightness of the morning sun on the golden Plain, Pawel shielded his eyes to take in the
wonder of the shining Stairway in the distance. Pawel made his way back to the Path that still
ran as true as ever toward the East and began the new day’s march toward the Stairway. He had
no stores or supplies, no bag with money, no water for his thirst. He traveled only with his staff
and his Guide. On his feet were the sandals from the Forest but in his mind were the words
from the book. Pawel walked for several hours, enjoying both the sun and the wideness of the
Plain. His thoughts were filled with the words he had read at the cottage and he frequently
opened the book again to read them afresh. Each time he hoped to find something new to read
but for the time being the book was only showing him this one picture of the Word.
After the sun had crested and had begun her downward descent to her stronghold in the
west, Pawel began to feel the discomfort of his journey. His throat was getting parched from
thirst and his stomach was grumbling seriously from its lack of food.
“When was the last time I ate?” he wondered. On the night before breaking through the
brambles at its edge Pawel had swallowed the last of his traveling rations. Water had not been a
problem in the Forest for the Path always seemed to follow along a swiftly moving creek. The
water in the creek was cool and very refreshing. It was as if it had medicinal qualities, the way
it could rejuvenate a man who was thirsty.
“But what do I drink here?” he asked out loud. He had begun to consider his plight and
to entertain the fear that maybe he had been rash in leaving the safety of the cottage and its
proximity to the water of the Forest. “Maybe I ought to go back before it is too late,” he
muttered. Figuring quickly the time he had been traveling on the Path Pawel realized that to
return might be as dangerous as going forward. It would soon be dark on the Plain, and this
kind of darkness was not suitable for travel. “In him was life…” the Guide had said. Pawel

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opened the book and reread those words. He wondered if somehow the words could mean life
as he needed. Could it mean actual water and sustenance without which man could not hope to
survive? He felt that it might. No, he felt he was told that it did. He couldn’t explain it but he
sensed that to go back was to go to his own destruction and that to go forward was his only way
of safety, no matter how unsure or hopeless that way seemed. Thinking about the Word of Life,
as Pawel had begun to call Him, he pressed on ahead, still thirsty, still hungry, but refreshed in
his spirit with the hope that somehow the Path and the Word might come to his aid.
He was surprised at how long he could travel on the little amount of food he had eaten
back in the Forest. Especially when he considered the trauma he experienced in the cabin at the
hands of his Friend. He traveled well into the evening, the sun had set hours before and he still
had not found any sign of food or shelter. He was considering turning aside for the evening, but
was not relishing the idea of trying to sleep out on the Plain. The wind was getting cold, the air
was chilling his skin, and he had no cover to protect him from it except his robe. He paused to
consider a possible spot to rest; a shallow in the Plain that bordered the Path. He felt it might
offer some shelter so he turned into it and nestled his way among the stalks of the heavier
vegetation. He felt like a deer or rabbit as he burrowed into the shallow and sought the
protection of its nest for the night. It was surprisingly comfortable, and he felt the warmth of
sleep coming over him as he settled in. “In Him was Life,” Pawel said before shutting his eyes.
And then he offered the first prayer of his life. He had never understood the prayers of his
elders in the village; they seemed to mutter and repeat themselves. Theirs seemed to be
incantations to a god, but not prayer to one. Pawel felt alone in his nest and reached out to the
only one he knew who might bring him comfort, he reached out to the Word of Life. “I am
Pawel,” he began. “I don’t know who you are, but I am trying to. I am on this Path and I would
like to meet you. Please come to me, or let me find you. And thank you for the book and for the
cabin last night.” With that Pawel shut his eyes and was soon fast asleep under a starless sky
and the moaning whistle of the wind across the tops of the grass.
The morning came with the sun warming the tip of Pawel’s nose. He was slightly damp
from the dew that had settled upon him during the night but found himself remarkably rested.
“It’s not so bad sleeping out under the stars like a rabbit,” he smiled to himself. He stood from
his nest and stretched his arms to the Heavens above. The sky was a brilliant blue with the only
clouds appearing off on the horizon, forming a barrier between the Plain and the shadowy
mountains beyond. Pawel took in the view toward the east and could make out the Stairway as
bright as the sun that was reflecting off of it. He marveled again at its dazzling whiteness. It
seemed to be on fire yet again, burning in the rays of the sun and sending its light to all corners
of the Plain. “If only my friends back in the Forest could see this,” he said to himself. “If only
they could know that it is real and that it is there for any who want to approach it.” He looked
sorrowfully back toward the Forest which was surprisingly distant now and pale in comparison
to what lay before him in the east. Pawel straightened his robes and brushed off the grass that
had pressed into the folds. He spotted the Guidebook thankfully; it was tucked safely beneath
the clump of grass he had used as a pillow for his head during the night. Pawel took it from
beneath the grass and brushed off its leather cover. His hand passed over the words embossed
in gold and he pressed his fingers into the symbol on the spine of the book. It was a simple
symbol, merely two short bars of gold crossing each other in the center. One bar was placed
vertically up the spine and the other was placed horizontally across it. It was an oddly familiar
shape. The kind of shape that is obviously functional. You see it in the structure of dwellings
and garden fences and trellises. The shape is even found in the alphabet. But what did it mean

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on this book? When Pawel touched it a second time with the question still echoing in his mind
the world before him went slightly dim and he saw that the sun had passed behind a cloud that
appeared suddenly before his eyes. In the cloud Pawel saw an empty and dying world spinning
violently and its sky filled with swirling masses of bodies and vapor. He could see men and
women writhing in pain and hear their voices screaming out for salvation. Pawel saw children
as well; children without home or shelter, wandering the face of their dying world looking for
succor but finding none. Then there appeared a light that pierced the mass of vapor and shone
upon the twirling globe. Where it struck the earth the ground was healed and life began to grow
once more. Vegetation sprouted where before there had been only dry stubble. Animals began
to scamper among the rotting flesh of the dead. The light burned a mark into the ground the
shape of the symbol Pawel had just been considering. The mark was etched deeply into the
world and from its depths life sprang eternally. The world ceased its spinning, the sky emptied
of its vapor and the painful contortions of the people were relieved. In the vision Pawel saw a
glimpse of the world’s salvation stemming from the mark of the cross. When it was over the
cloud abruptly vanished and the light of day welcomed Pawel back to the Plain once more.
“I have got to start anticipating these things,” Pawel breathed. Pawel opened the
Guidebook and reread the previous day’s entry. The Word of Life was as real today as he was
yesterday Pawel noted. And the offer to become his child still stands, Pawel was excited to see.
Pawel turned to the next page hoping to be able to read some more and was thrilled to see new
words appear. “This is the testimony of John…” John was mentioned in the previous day’s
writing but Pawel had not paid much attention to him due to his enthusiasm over reading of the
Word. He flipped back a page and read again how the man John had appeared and was a
witness to the Word of Life. He came as a man, he was a man, and he came to bring to the
people the knowledge of their salvation. Turning back to the new day’s page Pawel continued
to read, “And he confessed and did not deny, but confessed, ‘I am not the Christ.’” Pawel read
of John’s testimony to the people that the true Christ was coming, that one day He would
appear and all men would be unworthy of even tying His sandal straps. He read John’s cry to
the world, his calling out in the wilderness; he was a man making all things level before the
great day of his Lord’s coming. Pawel read of the day when John saw the Christ, when the man
named Jesus appeared before John where he was teaching and baptizing and how John affirmed
with a mighty voice that this Jesus was the Christ. Pawel read of the booming voice that came
out of Heaven that testified to the entrance into the world of God’s Son, and he read of the
Spirit of God coming down on the wings of a dove and resting lightly on the head of Christ.
Pawel read and reread these lines, still standing in his small nest in the midst of the great Plain
and he tried to understand. “What is this cross?” he asked the Heavens. “Why are the people
suffering so and the world dying? Who is Jesus? What is a Christ? Why does John announce
him so? How do I become a child of this man?” Pawel began his questioning quietly with his
arms outstretched above his head. He was screaming by the time he hit his knees and bowed
before the arch of the sky and fell face down into the still damp grass of the Plain. He stayed
bowed for quite some time, lost in his thoughts and hoping to see more in the book or in a new
vision. But there were no answers. Gradually Pawel’s questioning ceased and his heart
recovered from its racing. Pawel began to feel the peace that comes from wearing oneself out
with crying. He sat back on his knees and wiped his eyes. The Plain was beginning to wake to
the morning sun. Pawel took in the sound of young birds being fed their morning meals and
crickets beginning their songs announcing a new day’s work. Pawel too began to think of the
day ahead of him and stood once more to consider his plan. Still with no sign of food or water

9
Pawel quickly put that desire, not yet a dire need, behind him, although he could not help but
be discomfited by the increasing rumblings and queasiness that passed through his stomach
region. It had now been two days since he had eaten; the longest time he had ever gone without
food. Taking up the book and brushing his robes off once more Pawel stepped out into the Plain
and onto the road leading to the East.
It was nearing midday when there appeared a flock of ravens on the horizon heading
toward him from the direction of the Stairway. They were not a large group but numbered
about twelve birds by Pawel’s count. A few approached very quickly, swooping down over
Pawel in perilous descents and shrieking a terrible call of warning to him. Pawel instinctively
covered his head for protection and the birds veered past him cackling shrilly as they dove over
his head. The other birds flew in more easily, gliding down to the Path and settling in front of
Pawel three across. The three birds made no sound but stood at attention as if waiting for Pawel
to approach. Pawel saw now that each bird carried in its beak a small wrapped parcel tied with
different colored ribbons. As Pawel stepped forward to meet them the first bird flew to him and
dropped his parcel at Pawel’s feet. It was wrapped in a red ribbon which became loosed when it
was dropped. The raven screeched a welcome and flew off to rejoin the others. At Pawel’s feet
lay a loaf of bread the size of his fist, steaming as if fresh from the oven and smelling as if
made in Heaven itself. The second bird now fluttered forward and ceremoniously dropped his
bundle at the feet of Pawel and also quickly flew off. The second parcel’s violet ribbon also
loosened and Pawel saw a gloriously ripened fruit shining in the sun. The last and third bird
also swooped forward and laid his parcel at Pawel’s feet. But this raven did not allow his
ribbon to be loosened, but carefully placed it on the ground next to the other two. Nodding
slightly to Pawel this raven, the biggest of the three, flew off, strangely silent, to join his flock.
Pawel picked up the third parcel and opened it carefully. The fabric of this parcel was
semi-rigid and Pawel opened it like a box. Inside was a small quantity of water, just enough to
quench his thirst. Pawel sat upon the ground and stared at his provision. In the midst of the
Plain, with no help visible and no hope of finding a source for it, Pawel was visited and
provided for. He looked again to Heaven and gave thanks for his bread, for his fruit, and for his
water. He ate them all, leaving not a crumb for the morrow and carefully tied up the parcel
wrappings and stowed them away in the depths of his satchel. He felt as if he had just feasted at
the king’s table. His belly was wonderfully full and his energy restored. He realized that having
gone without for so long had made him appreciate it all the more when it came. He thanked
God again and set out on his day’s journey, thoroughly expecting the unexpected and waiting
with great hope for its arrival. He didn’t have to wait long.

The Baptist
The Plain was quiet, the sun was warm on his face, and the breeze was refreshing. As he
walked he reread the words of the Guide and tried to reflect upon them. He was deep in thought
when he first smelled the smoke. Looking ahead and shielding his eyes from the sun, Pawel
could make out a thin column of smoke rising to the sky just ahead and to the right of the path.
“Now what could that be?” Pawel wondered. Ready for anything Pawel quickened his pace and
hurried on his way.
As he neared the smoke Pawel saw a campsite in the middle of the Path. There was a
small fire burning to the right surrounded by several boulders that could be used for sitting.
There was a small tent fashioned from a rough cloth and supported by sticks staked in place at
either end. And on the left of the Path there was a spring bubbling up into a refreshing pool of

10
crystal clear moving water. Pawel stared for a moment taking in this new thing when he noticed
there was a man staring right back at him. The man was not diminutive as the Mentor had been.
This man was tall and was well toned. He wore the simplest of dress, a cloth much like that of
his tent draped over his shoulders and tied about his waste with a rope. His hair and his beard
were long and unkempt; his feet were bare and dirty. He looked like a beggar man and Pawel,
still not understanding the way of the Path through the Plain, immediately assumed the worst of
him.
“Who be you, and what have you got?” the man shouted at Pawel. Although his words
were clean they hit Pawel’s ears as a curse.
“I haven’t got anything,” Pawel stammered. “I’ve only got my staff and my book”
Pawel was trying to remember what he had read and what the Mentor had told him. He tried
desperately in the few seconds he had to remember what his Friend had said about his sight.
“Yes, you do, you do at that, you viper!” The man’s voice cracked at his last word, and
Pawel jumped. “You’ve got the wrappings, my friend, the wrappings,” he croaked, chuckling to
himself and turning back to his fire. Pawel could hear him laughing and muttering to himself
about the ways of ‘these travelers.’
Pawel remembered the satchel and the three wrappings from the morning’s meal. How
did this man know of them? Had he somehow provided them for him? Instantly Pawel felt
shame at his assumption of the man’s character and instantly the Mentor’s words came to him
about his sight and about choosing to use it to see things as they are. By habit Pawel had chosen
to see a beggar and a thief when in reality what he could have seen was a helper and a friend.
How often, Pawel wondered, do I miss chances like this to make a friend because I have
decided instead to make an enemy?
Pawel, uncertain what to do, quietly approached the fire and asked permission to sit
with this strange but now intriguing man.
“Yes, of course you may sit,” the man said softly. Then, raising his voice, he said, “But
know this you young fool, I prepare the way forward from here and no one else. You listen to
my words or you go no further. Do you hear me?”
Pawel nodded his affirmation and took his seat to the left of the strange and vociferous
man. Pawel waited for him to speak again but there was nothing that the man appeared to want
to say, for he continued to work on the rope that he had been twisting in his lap and paid Pawel
no attention whatever. The man’s hands moved quickly at his work. He was twisting or
weaving, Pawel couldn’t tell which, the grasses of the Plain into a rope the thickness of his own
wrist. Arts such as these are lost today, Pawel thought to himself. And indeed they are; it is
only the ‘primitives’ who know the simple tasks that one associates with survival in a non-
civilized world. Back in the Forest the goods they purchased came prepared and ready for use.
The ropes and the tools came from elsewhere; made by people the Foresters cared not the least
to know of. What would happen to these ‘civilized’ in an age where all things are changed, in
an age when all is halted and production ceases? When communication is cut off, and the
simple things of life become the most important? Pawel remembered how grateful he was for a
simple meal of water, bread, and fruit after only two days of fast. How far he had come already
from the days when he considered food a convenience and its provision was taken for granted!
“Damn right you are too, young one! Maybe you are not such a fool after all.” Pawel
turned to face the man sitting next to him. The man was staring intently into the face of Pawel.
His eyes were black as night, they pierced Pawel’s own eyes and probed within his mind as if

11
looking to see if there were anything of worth to be found there. Pawel stammered, “Right?
About what, sir?”
“About the world being lost when that day comes, for that day is coming, and has come
when men will fear the Lord for His mighty hand upon their rotten necks.” The man released
Pawel from his stare and nodded to himself. He seemed to have found what he was looking for
in Pawel and turned back to his work. “You will see this for yourself Pawel, it would be best if
you were prepared ahead of time for it. But look, it is here already, standing at your door and
knocking loudly. Will you accept what you see, Pawel?”
The man stopped speaking and stood. He turned his back on Pawel and bent to enter his
tent. Pawel stood likewise, confused at the man’s words and wondering what he was to do next.
A stiff breeze slammed into his back, coming off the Plain violently and knocking Pawel to his
knees. This time Pawel was prepared for the unexpected when the cloud formed itself before
his eyes and all was darkness. Pawel woke in that darkness, but not on the Plain. Pawel found
himself cold and wet, stuck in a rank ooze that sucked at his limbs and held him fast. He could
move, but slowly, for the mud weighed him down, reducing the effectiveness of his efforts to a
minimum. There was no light, only the blackness of the void. He could not even see the muck
he was caught in or his own limbs. He was alone. But he could hear the voices and the sucking
sounds of others trying to free themselves from the mud. He heard them crying and weeping.
He heard them shouting in anger and in despair. He heard cursing and mindless babble. It was a
horrifying existence. “How long?” They cried out around him. “Why?” they screamed in terror.
“We refuse!” they all seemed to agree at last.
Pawel understood none of this, but he was sure it was a vision and for that reason alone
he fought to maintain his sanity. “This must be a dream to teach me some new lesson about the
way,” he consoled himself. “I must try to see with my eyes what it is that can be seen.”
With this thought Pawel could make out the coming of a single light burning in the
distance. Its beam scattered the darkness, sending it to all corners of the void. Pawel could see
by its light that it came from a small island in the center of a great lake of humanity. All of
humanity stuck in the morass of this space, all of humanity screaming for relief but refusing to
move toward the light. Pawel saw that as the light passed its eye over the sea there were a few
of mankind who turned to embrace its glow and who welcomed its warmth upon their slime
covered flesh. These alone struggled to make their way towards it, fighting against the muck
that weighed them down and against the tide of humanity that moved against them. Pawel
joined these who turned to the light. As he made his painful progress toward the island he now
saw as his salvation, he began to see just how awful the mud covering his flesh really was. It
was infested with the lowest of insect life and it smelled of sewage and human waste. He tried
to clean it off, wiping at it with his hands but succeeding only in grinding it into his very pores.
The stench was almost unbearable by the time he was close enough to the island to see the
figure standing upon it. The figure was a man, dressed in white, and holding His arms out to all
who would come. It was from Him that the light emanated. It shone from His very eyes and its
brilliance was staggering. He spoke, “Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden, and I
will give you rest.” At the sound of His voice all of humanity stopped in their struggle both
towards him and away from Him. As one all eyes turned to look upon the Son of Man, who
stood in glory at the center of a world ridden with disease and worthy of only destruction. And
then the moment passed. As if He hadn’t spoken mankind turned from Him once again and
continued their lament against God and their curses upon him. But a few did not turn with
them. A few, like Pawel, turned toward him afresh and with renewed vigor, continued their

12
struggle to His holy mount. As Pawel neared the feet of the man standing upon the island he
was conscious of his dirty and wretched condition. He was naked before the one whom he had
so wanted to meet. He was filthy from his journey in the void. He was infested with its lice and
its vermin. He was covered in the sewage of his own life and he was ashamed. But to the
wondering eyes of Pawel, as each wretched soul reached His feet, the Son of Man reached
down to grasp his arm and pull him to Himself. Unconscious of his own cleanliness and the
purity of His own robes, this man pulled each lost soul to Himself and held him in a deep
embrace. Pawel saw that with each new embrace the Son of Man became more covered in the
slime they brought with them upon their own bodies. As Pawel met His embrace he saw that
his own filth transferred to the Son of Man as well. It was on His hands, His face, His feet and
His hair. As the man pulled the last of the souls from the sea He was covered in their
wretchedness but they in turn had each become clean.
“I do this for you,” He said. “I do this for you, because I love you. Will you love me in
return?”
The saved fell to their knees and wept over what they had done to the Son of Man. They
cried out in repentance of their sinfulness and their part in the sea of humanity. Pawel wept, his
face buried in the robes of his savior, and his world went dark once again.
“You see what you are, my friend?” The strange man’s voice broke through Pawel’s
reverie about the vision. He did see; he saw his sin, his refusal, his rebellion against the truth.
He saw that he was stuck in the mud, just as literally as if he was in that horrific sea. His filth
clung to his every pore, and he felt the shame of its weight on him.
“Did he really take me out of that world?” Pawel asked quietly.
“He did that and so much more. Repent, my friend, repent of your wickedness and turn
to the outstretched arms of Jesus, the Lord, and the Son of Man.”
“Jesus?” Pawel asked.
“God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him
should not perish but have everlasting life. Will you accept Him, and turn to Him, and repent of
your sins?”
Pawel saw with his eyes for the first time in his journey. He saw the truth behind the
façade. It was as if he had been looking in a mirror all of his life and now he had seen the
reality that the mirror was so poorly reflecting. “I will,” he said. “I do.”
The man held out his hands to Pawel and clasped Pawel’s forearms in his own. He
embraced him in this way for a brief time and then led Pawel across the road to the small
spring. Unceremoniously the man looked to the Heavens and declared, “In the name of the Son
of God, in whom he has just believed, I baptize Pawel!” And with that the man forced Pawel
headlong into the spring and held him there for several seconds. Pawel kicked in surprise and
sputtered his protest until the man finally pulled him bodily from it and set him back on the
path. “You are now fit to travel this Path my friend. But do not stray! You know what is right
and you know what is wrong. Do right! And be gone with you.”
Pawel was handed his staff and his book and was actually kicked in the backside as
encouragement to leave. When he looked back to the small camp, Pawel saw the man resume
his seat and his work at the rope and never a glance in Pawel’s direction did he cast. Pawel
heaved a sigh, to strengthen himself and to reset his focus and without knowing what lay ahead
next, he set his face toward the Stairway and his feet on the Path and he began to walk once
more.

13
Believe in Me
Pawel’s journey was uneventful the remainder of the day. Filled with the words of the
book he carried and the wonder of the vision he had seen, Pawel walked on till dusk. The tower
still stood like a beacon in the midst of the Plain but it was growing in size as Pawel drew
nearer. It seemed only a day’s walk ahead, if Pawel’s sense of space and time were to be
trusted. “Tomorrow,” Pawel said softly. “Tomorrow I will reach the fabled Stairway to
Heaven.” What would happen then Pawel could only imagine, but if the past few days were any
indication, he expected it to be spectacular!
As night began to descend on the Plain and the sounds of the night animals began to be
heard, Pawel started to look for a suitable place to spend the night; having slept out in the open
once before, Pawel prepared to give it another try. His level of expectation had lowered since
his journey upon the path. He found that what he had previously considered staples of his life,
such as regular meals and warm clothes and shelter, were now beginning to seem luxury. He
remembered his night in the cottage and the security of its four walls and soft warm bed with
fondness. But he also remembered the provision granted him the previous night in the shelter of
the hollow with gratitude. Contentment was becoming a part of his existence it would seem.
Pawel was journeying toward something so much greater than himself and therefore was not
concerned nearly so much with the day to day worries that had plagued him before.
Once again, as if in answer to his need, Pawel came upon a wide spot on the Path that
encompassed a fire ring made of rough hewn stone and a pile of firewood neatly stacked and
dry to the touch. Pawel marveled at the thoughtfulness of whomever it was that left such a gift
for the next traveler. He marveled again when his eyes came across an object wrapped in
weatherproofed canvas lying next to the wood. Pawel opened it carefully and was surprised to
see a simple tent inside, complete with tie downs, stakes, center supports, and even a simple
mat rolled up, dry and clean. Pawel whistled a happy tune as he quickly made camp and started
the evening’s fire. He had no food to cook over it but the thought never occurred to him; happy
he was to simply sit by its warmth and read by its light. Before turning in for the night Pawel
looked to the Stairway and whispered, “Thank you for thinking of me; for giving me this rest
tonight.” As he crawled into his tent, wrapped himself in his robe, and lay upon his comfortable
mat, Pawel felt a peace that he had never felt before wash over him. His last thought before
sleep took him was of the Stairway and what he might find when he reached its top.
The dream came over him slowly. He was drifting through a haze, a mist that clouded
not only his vision but his senses. He was thickened by it, numbed to the tips of his fingers and
down into his spirit. He felt paralyzed, not in his limbs but in his soul. He could no longer move
of his own will. He could not think or reason; he had no interest in what lay ahead or what lay
behind. He was alone and he was inert. He began to come to his senses only as a light from
some source beyond his comprehension shone through the mist, burning it away. It is warm in
this place, he thought. The light was awakening him slowly, gently warming his limbs and
exciting his deadened senses. He felt its touch crawl over him, and was aware that he was
coming alive once more in its embrace. He was growing within; he was changing inside where
he had felt only emptiness and apathy before. Pawel stood then and looked out from his
position onto a Plain, but a Plain unlike the one he somehow knew he still must travel. Behind
him was an abyss that descended down and away from him in steps into darkness. Before him
was a glorious sunrise that burst across the new found Plain and greeted him joyously. There
was the sound of birds nesting and singing in the tall grasses. Their babies chirped in unison
and their parents flew out of their hiding places to find food for their young. Hidden from

14
Pawel’s sight but known to the heightened senses of his ears there were all manner of other
creatures hidden and living on the Plain. There were families of mice and rabbits. There were
prairie dogs and skunks. There were small felines and canines, all in family groups and all
caring for their own in peaceful harmony upon the Plain. Pawel knew that there were large
animals as well. There were beasts and mammoth animals living together off in the distance,
away from the Plain but cared for and caring for their own kind. Pawel looked across the Plain
and saw in the distance the mountains, a warm gray line rising to meet the sky and a new sun;
beyond all of this and resting firmly across the horizon, there was an end to the Plain and the
beginning of the realm of God. Pawel knew this even as he thought it. “There lies the kingdom
of God,” he wondered aloud. “There is the realm of the great king and the Father of the Son of
Man.”
Pawel peered into the morning sun to better see into that far off mountain range and in
his mind he was there. Still fixed firmly to the top step of the great Stairway that led into the
abyss, Pawel was taken forward over the Plain and to the base of the mountain. A gate stood at
the end of a great spur that reached its long finger into the Plain. Through the gate and up the
spur lay a new Path, a path never trod by mortal man but only by the immortal. The Path, again
Pawel knew this instinctively, led straight up the mountain and into the great throne room of
God, Himself. It ended at the foot of His throne, and its access was unlimited to any and all
who found their way through. Confirming this was a rough carved sign above the gate, it read
simply, “Believe.” To enter the kingdom of God required only belief that His kingdom existed.
How could anyone doubt that His kingdom was real? How could they doubt once seeing His
Path, living upon His Plain, climbing the Stairway, and seeing this great mountain? Pawel
shook his head, confused.
“They do not believe because they do not see those things, Pawel.” The voice came
from behind Pawel, and was spoken softly. Pawel turned, startled by the unexpected once again
but not frightened. Standing beside him was a man dressed only in a robe tied around his waist
with a cord. His feet were bare and in his hand he carried a long walking stick. “I am Jesus,” he
said, extending his forearm in greeting. Pawel clasped it in the manner of men and looked deep
into the eyes of the man he had so desired to see. Jesus’ deep onyx eyes stared back at Pawel;
they peered into his very soul and touched his heart. Pawel knew the love of Jesus then, he felt
the love of His Father for him and he finally understood the greatness of the gift that he had
been given.
“They do not see because they will not to see, my friend.” Jesus let go of Pawel’s arm
and looked through the gate toward His own home. “But you believe, do you not, my brother?”
Pawel nodded slowly, but said, “Tell me, Lord, what is it that I am to believe?”
“Believe in me, Pawel.”
Pawel knew he believed but was still unsure what specifically was required of him.
Jesus smiled and lowered his head, all of a sudden interested only in the ground at His feet. The
silence between them was uncomfortable, and Pawel shifted uneasily, hoping that he hadn’t
disappointed Jesus with his uncertainty.
“You did not disappoint me, Pawel, you only confirm once again the difficulties that lie
ahead for my children. You know the nature of the Path; you yourself were barely able to find a
way out of the Forest. The Forest has become life for my children and they have ceased to
strive for the Plain. They have forgotten my Name, Pawel. That is your answer and that is the
only thing that is required for men to be saved from their own destruction, from the Forest,
from life itself. Believe in Me, Pawel, and enter my domain.” With a broad sweep of his arm

15
Jesus gestured to the Gate, and to the mountain rising before them. And in that instant Pawel
saw the glorious throne of the Father, rising like a golden sun and bursting forth His majesty
into the world and the Heavens. His throne rested between the world of men and the world of
Heaven. It was the only place where eternity bridged the space between it and time. And once
bridged man no longer had to fear what lay behind but only look forward to the wonder of his
life anew in the kingdom; a kingdom of industry and worth, a kingdom where man was filled
with joy and love for his family and his brother, a kingdom where he was understood and
welcomed no matter who or what he once was or had become. The kingdom of God! It was
perfection in all its parts, it was the completion of what had been so badly perverted upon the
earth, but had been so wonderfully saved and overcome by the Son of this great God.
Jesus spoke once more, “Believe in Me.” And then Pawel was alone again on the Plain
at the head of the abyss. He turned slowly away from the wonders that he beheld and looked
sadly into the pit that lay behind him. Down he must go; he knew that to be so. With a sad last
look over his shoulder Pawel began his slow descent back into the comparative gloom of the
land of the mortal. The death of sleep took him once more and he felt his body stiffen again
with its loss of sense and the apathetic emotional void that spread over his soul. He was back in
the tent, shivering in the cold of the midnight air and he called out to the Lord, “I believe,
Jesus, I believe.” He slept again that night, a dreamless sleep this time, but a restful one. The
morning would come soon enough and with it the journey to the Stairway. What lay ahead
there, Pawel could not imagine.

The Bog
He woke once more to the peaceful sounds of the great Plain that stretched out from
him in all directions. He lay on his back under the shelter of the tent and listened to the noises
of the Plain waking up with him. He could tell by the shadows of the grasses on the side of the
tent that the sun was making its way toward its summit. He could already feel its warmth begin
to invade the cool air trapped inside the tent all night. He rolled to one side and reached for his
satchel, looking anxiously for the book in hopes that there were more words for him. Still
possessed by the emotion from his dream Pawel longed for more answers, for direction. He
wanted more than anything else to know about Jesus. He wanted to know of his relation to the
Father, of the nature of His power, and of the gift of salvation that he so freely offered all of
mankind.
Finding the book, Pawel hurriedly opened it and turned to the last page he had read.
With great expectation he slowly turned the page to the next. He yelped in joyful surprise when
he found it was covered with more of the elegant print that guaranteed new knowledge and new
answers to his many, many questions. Pawel quickly began to read and was lost for most of the
morning in reading, reflecting and rereading what he found in those new pages. Pawel read of
many things that morning. He read of the miraculous power that Jesus had upon the earth to
heal the sick and to cast out the demons. He read of the challenge to authority that Jesus
presented the religious leaders of the Jews. He was astounded to read the account of the way
Jesus provided food for the thousands gathered to hear Him speak. Having been provided for
miraculously himself Pawel had little difficulty accepting such a provision for others. Surely
this man Jesus was someone to be listened to, if not obeyed. And then Pawel read on and
learned of the Father Son relationship that Jesus shared with God. Jesus called Himself the
Father’s Son and affirmed it freely when He said, “I and the Father are one.” Yes, He is one to
be paid attention to; Pawel smiled and closed the book.

16
He sat up and let the warmth and assurance of the truth flow over his spirit. It was such
a gift to have this record, he thought. To have the words of the Lord available to read and read
again, to have the accounts of His works of wonder recorded in the book for all to see is a
wondrous gift. Pawel thought again of his dream and of the last words Jesus spoke to him
before he woke up. Jesus had said, “Believe in Me.” Belief, such a simple thing and yet such a
difficult one for man to possess. Pawel reopened the book and turned back to the first page of
the new writing to a passage that suddenly came back to mind. “As Moses lifted up the serpent
in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up; so that whoever believes will in
Him have eternal life.” Pawel thought back to the vision of the muddy sea that clung so
viciously to its inhabitants. He remembered how hard it was to make his way to the light and
how many refused to even try but instead used their energy to struggle away from it. The book
said that Jesus is the light. Jesus Himself said that He is the light, so why would anyone turn
from Him and choose to live in the darkness? Darkness is death; just as in the vision, the
darkness of the mud claimed all who turned from the only source of safety that was available.
Here again Pawel saw the word “believe.” I must believe in this Jesus, Pawel thought. I must
believe in Him; that he is the Son of Man, and then I will have eternal life. Pawel had never
considered a life that was anything but temporal. He was taught that life was of a set length,
that you were born and did the best you can and when the time was up you were laid to rest
beneath the earth. There was no ‘after’ death to be considered. Pawel had seen the bodies of the
dead before burial. They were referred to as bodies because the person that used to occupy
them was no more. They always appeared to be unnatural, a shell of the man or woman who
used to reside there. It was easy to see that death was the end. But now a new thought occurred
to Pawel. Maybe death is itself unnatural. Maybe it is not to be the end. Maybe the person that
was in body has not simply ceased to exist but has gone! What if a person only occupies a
body, as a man occupies his clothes in the day? What if at death, just as he does his clothes at
night, a man slips off his body and goes somewhere else, to live and to occupy another form, or
exists in his truest form? Pawel looked again at the book and continued to read, “For God so
loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not
perish, but have eternal life.”
“Yes!” Pawel exclaimed. It must be true! There is no end to life, at least there does not
have to be. There is an ‘after’ life. A time that continues on into eternity. God has said it, so it
must be true; God loves us and He has made it true.
“For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world
might be saved through Him. He who believes in Him is not judged; he who does not believe
has been judged already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of
God.” Pawel was sobered by these words. There is judgment for those who live without this
belief in Jesus. He thought of the people he left behind in the Forest. He thought of the many
that had died in his lifetime alone, and the many dead before him and the ones that will yet die.
They stand judged because they live their lives in ignorance of this simple life saving truth.
They will perish; they will suffer the results of the judgment. “Why?” Pawel asked aloud. Why
do they not know? Why do they not turn as he did? As he was trying to do?
“This is the judgment, that the Light has come into the world, and men loved the
darkness rather than the Light, for their deeds were evil. For everyone who does evil hates the
Light for fear that his deeds will be exposed.”
That was it, Pawel thought, they do not turn because they do not desire to turn from
their wickedness. They want to continue on in the lifestyle they have chosen and be held

17
accountable to no one else. Man does not want to be judged by another but to be his own judge
and to make his own way. To turn to Jesus would require such a change. To turn to the Son of
God is to forsake the old ways, to forsake the Forest with all its byways and excursions into
pleasure and greed and to take the straight Path out of that life of sin into the wide open space
of the Plain where truth is easy to behold, where new sight is given, and where the objective,
Heaven, is Plainly in sight. Man turns from the Light and chooses to live in the ugliness of the
mud and the mire.
He closed the book once more and replaced it in the worn confines of his satchel.
Shaking his head sadly about the ones who seemed to be lost forever, but rejoicing in the
position he found himself in, Pawel gathered his belongings together and began to roll the mat.
He had only begun when he ducked instinctively at the passing shadows that flew up and over
the side of the tent. Pawel peered cautiously through the opening in the tent and was happy to
see the birds of yesterday returning with new wrapped packages for him to open. Pawel stood
still before them as he had done previously and waited as they solemnly performed the ritual of
bringing him his day’s provision. The birds shrieked their farewell and couldn’t resist strafing
him as they flew off, back into the direction of the sun whence they had come. Pawel sat on the
Path and gratefully devoured the still warm bread, the deliciously juicy fruit and the life
sustaining cool water. He carefully folded the wrappings and put them with the others in his
bag and proceeded to complete the task of breaking camp. Pawel decided it would be a good
thing to leave the camp as he had found it, better, if that were possible. He wanted the next
traveler to feel as welcome and as grateful as he had been upon finding it. So he carefully
packed the tent in its watertight wrapping, He cleaned the ashes out of the fire pit and resettled
the stones into a tight ring. Pawel cut some of the grasses and swept the area clean of his
footprints. Then he set out into the Plain to find some pieces of wood to replace the ones he had
used. This last chore was disconcerting to Pawel. He did not want to leave the surety of the
Path but he did want to do something nice for the next traveler that would pass this way. He
considered leaving the Path to be dangerous and felt that it would also somehow be
disobedient, ungrateful in some way to God who had cared for him so well as he walked it. But
he also considered that he must have some responsibility for others who walked the Path, to
care for them if he might and to help ease their passage if possible. He thought of the ones left
behind and was ashamed that he had done so little to bring them along. The least he could do
was to begin to care for others from this point on. He thought that it must be a good thing in the
eyes of God to give back freely that which had been given to him. He had received the security
of the camp with a grateful and relieved heart so he in turn would work to provide that same
security and relief to another. He could only hope that his thinking was correct. He had no
guide in this, but he felt in his heart that doing for others must be more important than seeking
only his own protection and benefit. With that thought, Pawel picked up his walking stick and
his bag and set off the Path into the grasses and began his search for fresh wood for a fire.
The Plain stretched in all directions as far as the eye could see. There was little to
distinguish one part of it from another. There were no paths through it, only the softly swaying
tall grasses that reformed themselves behind him as soon as he passed through. He had not
gone too far off the Path when he became aware that it was no longer visible to him. In a rush
of worry he sprinted back the way he had come to be sure he could find it again. To his relief
he did. But he couldn’t be sure of being able to find it again, should he travel further in search
of new material for the fire. Thinking about it for a moment Pawel decided to try and mark his
passing using the wrappings from the food he had received. Tearing the wrappings into small

18
squares Pawel set off the Path once more leaving a trail of squares pierced onto the tops of the
sturdy grass. Looking behind as he went Pawel was gratified to see the squares staying put and
pointing him surely back to the Path. Walking in this way it wasn’t long before Pawel came
once more upon the unexpected. He wasn’t clear exactly where he thought he might find the
wood, he had only assumed that it was findable, because someone had left him plenty to use.
But finding it as he did came as a complete surprise. Spreading out in front of him lay a
terrifically muddy bog. It was surrounded on all sides by tall reeds and thorny bramble. It
stretched out from Pawel at least fifty strides and formed a rough circle of swampy, mud and
rather smelly ooze. Finding a swamp in the middle of the seemingly otherwise pristine Plain
was surprising enough, but what really shocked Pawel and set him thinking was the small
island situated directly in the middle of it. Carefully stacked on the island was a pile of cut
firewood sitting under a lean-to of rough hewn lumber and appearing to be perfectly dry. That
settles the question of where the last person found the wood, Pawel thought. “But how do I get
to it?” he asked himself aloud. Looking around for some clue, an extendable plank or a raft of
some sort, but finding nothing Pawel realized with some dread that he would have to wade
through the bog if he wanted to get that wood for the camp. And not only that, he would have
to make several trips in order to leave enough behind to be of any real use to the next traveler.
Do I really want to help that bad? he asked himself. Pawel turned from the mud and looked
back at his trail of squares waving so peacefully behind him. It wouldn’t take long at all to get
back to the Path and continue on my way, he thought. But if I stay here and go after that wood
who knows how long I’ll be stuck here. Then I’ll have to clean myself up, somehow, if that is
even possible. I might not get back on the Path and moving toward the Staircase for several
hours yet. I’ll lose the best part of the day for travel and might not even be able to reach the
Stairway by evening. I cleaned up the camp real well, he reasoned. Surely that counts for
something, doesn’t it? Trying to make these justifications into the right thing to do, Pawel
turned toward the Path.
As he was walking slowly back through the grass, Pawel felt more and more burdened
by his decision. “This can’t be right either,” he muttered. Of course I can go back to the Path
and continue my way. That would probably be alright, as I am still heading toward the
Stairway. But it is also right to go into that bog yonder, and spend my time working to ease
somebody else’s travel. The question is which of the two ‘rights’ do I choose to take? Pawel
suddenly remembered the words that were written in the book this morning. They said, “But he
who practices the truth comes to the light, so that his deeds may be manifest as having been
wrought in God.” He realized then that, just as he was thankful to God for the provision of the
camp and was grateful to the person before him who cared enough to serve him in that way, he
also would be doing the work of God by caring for the next person in return. “I do want to
serve the Light,” Pawel called out to God. Looking back toward the bog he said, “So I guess I
better go down there and get dirty for His sake!”
Pawel returned to the bog and spent a considerable amount of time trudging back and
forth between the shore and the island. By the time he had removed all of the wood he was
covered from head to toes in the smelly muck and mire of the swamp. The ooze was in his ears,
in his beard, it had even found its way into his mouth. Pawel had to make three trips to the
camp to get the wood stacked by the fire ring, and he was utterly exhausted by the effort. The
ordeal reminded Pawel of the dream he had had of the muddy sea that stretched out before the
Lord. It was incredibly difficult to navigate that sea but because he was heading toward Jesus it
was bearable. And once he had reached the Lord it was ultimately rewarding. Pawel looked to

19
the Stairway and tried to view the uppermost regions but they were clouded from his view by a
Heavenly mist of sorts. He thought he could make out travelers ascending and descending
through the mist and flashes of light emanating from above, but he couldn’t be sure. That is
where I will be rewarded, he thought. This hard work I have done is only a condition of the
travel I must make to get there.
He stood wearily and cleaned the mud off of his extremities the best that he could. He
took off the robe that was completely soiled and rubbed it in the grasses to remove what he
could. The last thing he did before leaving was to make a path from the camp down to the bog.
He did this by ripping out the grasses the width of a man to make a straight shot down to the
bog. Leave it better than I found it, he said under his breath. At least the next traveler won’t
have to be frightened about losing his way as I was. Maybe that will make the choice between
right thing a little easier for him.
Pawel gathered his few belongings and left the camp feeling very good about what he
had done. Nobody but God would ever know that he had done it. But he had done it for nobody
but God in the first place so that was quite alright. The sun was well past the midday summit
when he set out for the Stairway once again, but Pawel put his face firmly toward it and set his
mind on reaching it that very day. By nightfall the tower loomed before him great and
awesome, a colossus of stone that rose out of the earth and soared into Heaven. The distance to
the Stairway was deceiving due to the tower’s great size. Pawel felt that he would surely reach
it soon but the moon was well into the sky when Pawel felt the weight of that great monument
of God looming overhead and was finally able to reach out and touch it. Its sheer size was
oppressive to Pawel; just one of its stones could crush the entire village he had lived in back in
the Forest. The number of stones that Pawel saw rising to form the great base of the spire was
too incredible to fathom. As he traveled around it looking for the first step he wondered at even
being able to make it to the other side. At long last, when the sky was starting to pink up from
the rising of the sun Pawel saw the ground beneath his feet begin to change. Gone was the hard
packed earth of the Path and now was a carpet of tiny flowers spread out before him. The
flowers were so densely grown together that they formed a soft base beneath his feet. Their
scent when he passed over them, crushing the few he tread upon, was delicious to his senses.
And as he passed, the flowers he had stepped upon were quickly replaced by new ones and the
carpet looked as fresh as it had before. Pawel reached the edge of the first step and cautiously
turned the last corner to behold his first glimpse of his walkway to Heaven. Spiraling up above
him was a staircase of white marble, polished and gleaming in the early morning sun. There
was a railing of polished gold that trailed the curves of the Stairway and disappeared around the
bend just ahead. Pawel could only see so far up the Stairway before the stone steps also
disappeared from view as they slowly curved toward Heaven. There was no sign directing
Pawel how to proceed and nobody appeared to greet him or to instruct him in the way to travel
onward. Pawel sat on the first step to catch his breath and to rest a bit before beginning his
climb. He was very tired from his strenuous day and from his lack of sleep during the night’s
travel. He rested his head against the coolness of the marble and, without intending to, fell into
a deep and fitful sleep.

The Stair
Pawel woke to a hand gently shaking his shoulder. He looked up into a wizened face of
an old man with a great beard of white and eyes of sparkling silver. Pawel sat up groggily and
looked around in confusion. “You are still at the Stairway my friend, and this is not another of

20
the visions or dreams, those are done for the present. Now you begin your journey, for today
you begin to ascend!” The old man stood to his full height and grandly swept his arms upward
toward the steps and their way into the Heavens. The man held out his hand to help Pawel to
his feet. The man exuded strength and warmth and Pawel felt completely at ease with him.
“Good Morning to you sir,” Pawel said grasping the man’s forearm firmly.
The man laughed and said, “ ‘Good evening’ you mean, my young friend. You have
slept through the morning and the afternoon and now night swiftly approaches.”
Pawel looked to the sky and, sure enough, the sun had passed overhead and was now
behind him in the west beginning to descend beyond the horizon of the Plain. The man spoke
again, “I am the Keeper of the Stair, young friend. Who might you be?”
Pawel looked back to the man who still firmly clasped Pawel’s arm in his own and said,
“I am Pawel. I have come from the Forest some days ago. I have traveled all night since the
camp and just arrived this morning at the Stair. I guess I was tired! I have slept the day away!”
The man smiled and released Pawel’s arm in order to step back and take a long look at
the traveler. “You look as if you have been traveling, Pawel. Your robe is a mess! I don’t get
too many travelers who arrive at the Stair looking as bedraggled as you look. Most are tired
from the journey, most are hungry, but most reach me with their robes relatively clean.”
Pawel looked at himself and saw the dried mud and the stained garment as it must
appear to the Keeper. He felt ashamed to make this kind of impression at such an important
place and with such an important person. He began to apologize and to promise to get himself
cleaned up as soon as it would be possible.
The man’s eyes began to sparkle and his face lit up in a grand smile. “You
misunderstand me, Pawel. To arrive in my presence looking as if you were dragged through the
mud the entire way is a mark of distinction to be sure. But it is a wonderful mark of distinction,
not one to be ashamed of. You have shown that you value the work of God over your own
comfort and personal well being. You have gone into the bog in order to serve your fellow
traveler. That marks you as a true servant of the Lord. Well done, my new friend!”
Pawel breathed a sigh of relief but then shouted his surprise when he was bowled back
onto the Stair by a mighty wind that blew in from the Plain. The wind swirled around him like a
cyclone seeking to gain entry into the robe he wore, succeeding and lifting it from his skin,
sweeping its cool fingers across his flesh. His hair was sucked and pulled by the powerful force
of nature and his entire body was lifted momentarily as the wind flew under and behind him.
As suddenly as it had started the wind stopped and it was once again silent on the Plain. Pawel
slowly regained his composure and his feet. He was clean once again. The wind from the Plain
had wiped every trace of his struggle in the bog from his body and his clothes.
“That’s a might shade better, wouldn’t you say?” asked the man.
“Yessir,” replied Pawel. Shaking his head at the mysteries that continued to surprise
him in his new life, Pawel asked, “If you please, sir, when might I begin my climb? When
might I start my journey to Heaven?”
“You may start immediately. There is nothing you lack. You have gained new sight on
your journey thus far. Remember to use it wisely to see that which is truly before you. You
have learned contentment and gratitude and to trust in the Lord for all your needs. Remember
these lessons and remain disciplined in your practice of them. You have read the book and have
learned of the Son of God, Jesus, who is your Savior. You have believed in his Name and you
have chosen to follow His lead. Remember this, Pawel, do not forget. The Stairway to Heaven
will lead you to Heaven, there is no doubt. But you must remember these simple things that you

21
have learned in order to safely reach its heights and stand before the throne of God. You will
meet many other travelers on the Stairway, Pawel. Remember this as well, most are not like
you. Although all have left the Forest and have journeyed the Path to this Stair, not all have
been diligent to remember their true course and calling to ascend to the top of this Stairway.
There are many who have ceased to travel upwards and have built their camps upon the steps of
this Stair. Beware of these travelers who have forgotten to continue to travel. They will attempt
to snare you in their own deception and will invite you to stay with them. Do not remain still,
Pawel. Keep moving; keep climbing; keep remembering. One day you will arrive at the
topmost step and you will look down and you will know what it is that you have done. I will
greet you on that day, my young friend.”
The Keeper reached out both arms to Pawel and pulled Pawel close to embrace him.
Pawel felt the coolness of the man’s robe and the radiated warmth of the man’s hands upon his
back. Pawel breathed deeply the safety and security of those arms and was sorry when the old
man pulled back and stepped away.
Pawel saw in the man’s strangely silver eyes that it was time for him to begin the climb.
The old man simply watched as Pawel turned to the Stair and began to climb the steps one by
one, always looking forward, not knowing what to expect around the first curve of the great
spiral Stairway, but knowing that whatever the future held it would be a wonderful and awe
inspiring adventure. When Pawel reached the point where he would lose sight of the ground
below he paused and looked after the man who was called the Keeper. The old man was no
longer there but on the wind Pawel heard his voice whisper, “Keep moving my young friend,
keep moving.” And Pawel did.

Holy Robes
It was peaceful on the Stair. Pawel climbed excitedly and eagerly anticipated reaching
the top and seeing Jesus once again. He enjoyed the cool breeze that circulated down the spiral
staircase from above and thoroughly enjoyed the view as he climbed higher and higher and was
able to look out over the Plain. It was interesting to see the Forest way off in the distance to the
west. As the sun began to set over it the Forest appeared merely as a black line on the horizon.
Gone were the impressive height of its trees and its many populated villages with their own
special attractions and industry. Instead what remained to be seen was a smudge of darkness
that was a blot on the pristine beauty of the great Plain that seemed to encompass the rest of the
world. It is all a matter of perspective, Pawel considered. When you are in the Forest it is all
that you see. It is your existence and your only truth. But from the vantage point of the Stair
your opinion of it changes. It is not the truth but only a blight upon the truth. The column of
steps is the truth. That great and wide Plain that stretches in all directions and surrounds the
Forest is the Truth. And the direction of travel is not circuitous as I was once taught but only
east and then up.
These were the thoughts that occupied Pawel when he first came upon the group of
travelers that were ascending before him. They were moving considerably slower than he
which accounted for his overtaking them, but they were a large group and that might have
explained their meager rate of advance. Pawel fell in behind the group of men and women and
children and climbed quietly behind them wondering who they might be, why they traveled
together, and whether or not they might allow him to accompany them. There was a distinct
order to their assembly. The children followed at the rear of the group, preceded by a band of
women who were in turn led by the men. Out in front and barely visible to Pawel as he kept

22
disappearing around the curve of the Stair was a single man in long flowing robes and a great
white hat perched atop his head. Pawel stifled a chuckle as he saw the ridiculous garb of the
advance man and his chortle was heard by the child straggling behind the rest. He was a portly
child and was obviously having difficulty keeping up even with the slow pace of the group as a
whole. The child was startled to see the newcomer and slowed even more to walk beside him.
“You must be new here, are you new here?” he asked in a winded voice.
“Yes, I guess I am,” Pawel replied. “I only entered the stair this evening.”
“”Greetings then,” said the boy. “You will have to meet the elders right away. They
lead our group and you must be welcomed by them before you may continue on this Stair.”
Pawel was surprised by this. He had not expected to have to meet any requirements for
traveling the Stair. In his ignorance of the Stair, but based on his understanding of God, he had
assumed that the travel to the top was free and open to him. He had thought all that was
required was to do his best to make the climb toward Jesus and to help others on the way if he
was able. But maybe this was necessary, he thought. And not wanting to cause any trouble, and
secretly doubting his own assumptions because of his acknowledged ignorance, Pawel agreed
to let the boy take him forward through the children and the women and to be introduced to the
men of the group.
As Pawel passed through the ranks of children and then women he overheard the
curious whispers and felt their stares upon his back. “Who is that man?” they asked each other.
“He must be new, look at the simple robe he wears,” they commented aloud. “Why has he been
walking alone on the Stair?” they asked incredulously.
By the time the young boy had reached the front of the travelers he was quite winded
and doubled over to catch his breath as he entered the closed circle of elders who had stopped
to discuss their plans for resting that night. They turned in exasperation and a measure of
indignation at being so unceremoniously interrupted, and by a wheezing boy no less. They
checked what surely would have been a stern rebuke when they saw Pawel behind him. Pawel
stepped forward and entered their circle, aware of the harshness of the eyes upon him and their
quick appraisal of his clothing and his person. It was then Pawel noticed that the men had
modified the pristine whiteness of their own robes by edging their garments with beautiful
patterns of multicolored threads. Each man had a distinct pattern along his robe’s sleeves and
bottom. Each man also wore a small cap distinguishable by a similar pattern and worn on the
crown of the skull. The men’s beards were long and full, obviously uncut and never shaven.
Their feet were shod in identical sandals whose straps wrapped their calves three times and
were clasped in the front with a silver medallion. Pawel immediately felt out of place and
underdressed. He did not know where or how they had gotten their apparel but he got the
distinct impression that it would be important for him to get some as well. He noticed that they
each carried a book similar to his own. He opened his satchel and presented it to them, hoping
that it would at least mark him as a fellow traveler if his clothing and solitude did not. “Please
excuse me for interrupting you, the young boy here informed me that it was necessary. I am
Pawel, and I travel the Staircase as you do to meet Jesus.” There was a simple directness in
Pawel’s words. It was what he understood, from his journey and from his visions. It was what
the book had taught him to believe. And he was sure that these men would accept him once
they understood that his journey was the same as their own.
The men merely smiled; self indulgent grins that attempted to mask their pity for the
ignorant new traveler. The man Pawel had seen leading the group, the man who wore the
unusual hat, stepped forward into the circle to face Pawel. He paused for a moment as if

23
thinking of how to proceed and then offered his hand to Pawel. Pawel was instantly relieved;
maybe this would turn out alright after all. He stepped forward and grasped the man’s forearm
vigorously. But the arm of this leader of the strange group of travelers merely hung limp in
Pawel’s grasp. “It is customary to only shake hands on the Stair, not forearms as is done by the
unbelievers,” he said, his eyes indicating his understanding of the amount of work that the
newcomer would need before he’d blend in with the rest of the group.
Removing his arm from the grasp of Pawel the man signaled to one of the other men to
come forward and to take care of Pawel. The man assigned to Pawel was instructed to begin
Pawel’s education in the proper way of traveling upon the Stair. He emphasized to the man to
be sure to emphasize the rules of conduct for Pawel. They would gather early in the morning
for their daily prayer and then begin their journey at first light. With a last appraising look at
Pawel the leader called the other men to himself and they moved forward away from their
women and children and settled upon the stair for their evening rest.
The man who had been assigned to instruct Pawel followed the other men with his eyes
and then resignedly sat against the inside wall of the Stair and motioned for Pawel to do
likewise. The man produced a small mat from his satchel that he carefully placed upon the step
he was sitting on and laid his book upon it. The man motioned for Pawel to do the same. Pawel
of course had no mat so he simply laid his book upon the stone of the step. There was an
audible gasp from his new acquaintance whose hand shot out like lightning and quickly
grabbed the book from before Pawel.
“What is wrong?” Pawel asked, confused.
“Never, I repeat, never place the holy book upon the bare step like that! It is a sacrilege
and an outrage. This book carries the words of our Heavenly Father and His Son, the Blessed
Jesus Christ. It is never to touch anything that has been soiled or touched by the feet of man.”
Pawel noticed that when the man named the Father and the Son he made several motions with
his hands about his head and chest. They were habitual hand gestures but obviously ones that
signified something of importance to the man. The man handed the book back to Pawel and
said, “Since you do not yet have the proper implements required for the placing of the book you
will have to hold it in your lap.” Pawel took the book back from the man and placed it carefully
in his lap. He wondered if he ought to tell the man that on his journey through the Plain he was
accustomed to reading with the book directly in the dust of the Path, but he decided against it.
“Now we will turn to today’s reading and read aloud the Word of the Lord.” The man
opened his book to the very first page and began to read. “In the beginning was the…” but
Pawel interrupted him. “I am terribly sorry…”
The man’s face was apoplectic; he raged at Pawel, “Never, I repeat, never interrupt the
reading of the Word!” Again Pawel apologized, and the man settled himself a bit.
“It’s just that I was wondering why you did not turn to today’s page in your book. I
have been excited to see if anything new has been written in mine. Can we read from there
please?”
The man smiled, again with an indulgent look of feigned patience. “No we will not read
from that page. We have a set order of readings and they must be adhered to so that all of the
Word is read through regularly. Now if you please; turn to the first page, that is where we will
begin today.”
Pawel dutifully did as he was instructed but secretly he was beginning to question
whether these people may be some of those he had been warned about by the Keeper.

24
“In the beginning was the Word…” The man’s voice soon became rhythmically
monotonous. He was speaking the words of the book in a forced cadence, his body swaying to
the left and the right, and his hands were held palm upward to each side. Pawel had trouble
understanding what was being read and fell to reading his own page silently in order to try and
glean something from the opportunity.
As abruptly as the man started he stopped. He closed his book ceremoniously, rolled his
small mat, and replaced both objects into his satchel. Pawel did the same with his book and
waited expectantly to be taught about the Word. But there was no teaching coming, instead the
man stood and knelt at the railing of the Stair and motioned for Pawel to do likewise. Pawel
knelt beside the man who closed his eyes tightly and said in a loud voice, “Father in Heaven,
we love you and we worship you. Amen.” It was perfunctory and quick. It was a routine that
had been dutifully accomplished. It was over before it had started and Pawel felt that it wasn’t
near worth the effort. Pawel did not add his amen to the prayer, he wanted nothing to do with it.
The man stood and motioned Pawel back to the inner wall and they resumed their seats upon
the step.
“You have much to learn Pawel, and I have been commanded to teach you. You must
do as I do and not as you have been doing on your own. We will begin your instruction in the
morning when you will be interviewed by the Leader and the other elders about your belief in
the Name of Jesus and your understanding of the journey to Heaven upon this Stair. It will then
be decided whether or not you are fit to remain with us or whether you must be cast out to learn
on your own the way of the Stair. Remember, there is no journey without the group. We are the
way, you must follow us, or you will be lost.”
With that the man leaned his head into his chest, flattening his beard under his chin and
closed his eyes to sleep. Pawel glanced up ahead to the other men. They too were settling down
into their beards for the evening sleep. The women had finished putting the children to sleep
and were likewise settling in for the night. Readings and Prayers were over. The day’s journey
had been completed. It was time to sleep, and sleep they proceeded to do, just another task to
be completed upon the Stairway to Heaven. Pawel shook his head, severely disappointed in
what the Stairway was turning out to be. He had held such high expectations of what he would
encounter, but what he was finding paled greatly in comparison. Checking to see that his new
teacher was asleep Pawel quietly took his book out from his bag and opened it to the day’s new
page. There was just enough moonlight to see it and he was overjoyed by the presence of the
new writing. It glittered and shone in the pale light and seemed to have an effervescence of its
own. “Please Father, help me to understand. This day has confused me, as have these people.
Please show me the Truth that I might not stumble into error.” And with that simple
acknowledgement Pawel began to read.
He read in the book that Jesus was not only the Light but also the Shepherd caring for
his flock. He was the Door to Heaven and all who would enter must do so through him. Pawel
read that Jesus is the Vine and that all of His children must cling to Him or be lost to the world.
And he read of the great command of his new Lord, that he learn to love others just as he had
learned that Jesus loved him. Pawel read that he must love others in order to truly be a child of
God. Why did they not want to read this today? He wondered. Why did they not seem to
receive him with love as the Lord so clearly commanded? Puzzled, Pawel closed his book and
held it tightly to his chest. These men seem to revere this Word of God. They seem to revere
the Word Himself. But it appears that they do not actually believe that which they say they
revere. The warning of the Keeper came back to him. “Most are not like you,” he had said.

25
Most have forgotten. They do not continue to move upward. They have become stagnant. They
make their camp on the Stair and have forgotten. Pawel decided to wait to pass judgment until
the morning. He would travel with these people one day and see if they continued to move up
the Stair. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t being unfair to them because their ways were so
different from his own. He realized that he didn’t even have any ways of his own yet so to
judge somebody else’s did not seem right. Still hugging the book Pawel tried to fall asleep
sitting up as he had seen the men do, but he could not get comfortable. So he let himself flop
over onto his side and curled up lengthwise across the Stair and fell into a deep and dreamless
sleep.
“This is My commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you. Greater
love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.” Pawel woke with these
words echoing in his mind. They filled him with such security, reminding him that Jesus loved
him truly. They also showed him clearly the purpose of his journey toward the Stair and then
toward Heaven. But Pawel woke with the sound of an angry voice and a rough shove in his side
from an angry foot.
“What is the meaning of this sacrilege?” the voice asked tremulously. “I demand that
you get up at once! You are lying on the Stair where others have walked and you are allowing
the sacred book to touch both the step and your face.”
It was true, Pawel had fallen asleep with the book still in his arms and during the night
he had hugged it tightly to his cheek for comfort. “I am sorry,” Pawel stammered. “I did not
mean to…” He had meant to apologize and to exPlain that he did not mean any harm but he
was cut off abruptly by his assigned companion from the previous night, a man whose name he
still did not know.
“Excuses amount to nothing on the Stair. You were told to respect the book and you
have blatantly ignored that command. It is possible that you did not understand about our ways,
I will take some of the blame for not making myself clear. And because we are a forgiving
people, we will make allowances for your transgressions today only. But do not continue in
these wicked ways or we will be forced to cast you out into the darkness.”
Pawel was instantly chagrined by the man’s rebuke and the authority in his voice. He
did not understand; that was true, especially about being cast into the darkness. What could that
mean? And where might that be? He was sure that he did not want to find out so he quickly
gathered his things and prepared to follow the man’s lead as closely as he could manage. The
man was appeased somewhat by Pawel’s seeming repentance and imperiously turned away,
motioning for Pawel to follow behind. They moved toward the group of elders who were
gathered in their circle waiting for the women and children to present themselves for the day’s
walk. When all were in order and lined up along the Stair according to their divisions the
Leader stepped onto the highest step from them and offered a prayer in the direction of the
rising sun. His prayer was much like the one Pawel had heard before. It was emotionless, it
sounded prepared and memorized, and it had all the form of a prayer but none of the substance.
At least to Pawel’s ears it rang hollow; it was nothing like what he experienced when he bowed
his head to pray and felt such honesty spring forth from within and felt that even though his
words were inadequate they were somehow received as special by God. What does all this
mean, he wondered. He had expected so much more from the Stair. He had expected to be
surrounded by people heading toward Heaven; people who would know the way. People who
he could walk with side by side and learn from. He had expected to be able to help others as he
did on the Plain. But the people that he had met seemed disinterested in those things. They had

26
rules that they followed that interfered with their caring for others, such as a stranger who
sought only to walk with them toward Jesus.
The prayer ended, it was much longer than the evening prayer; by the time the Leader
had finished Pawel noticed quite a few of the children becoming distracted. His guide from the
day before, the portly boy, had found some leftover food in his pocket and was surreptitiously
trying to take a bite. Pawel winced as he was caught by a woman Pawel presumed to be his
mother who rushed to him and slapped him, both on his hand which knocked the food to the
Stair and on the side of his head which quickly brought tears to his eyes. The boy did not cry
out though, he seemed accustomed to this kind of discipline and knew better, Pawel guessed,
than to make a sound during one of these gatherings. With a flourish the Leader turned to his
elders and motioned for them to take the group onward. As if one man the body of elders
turned down the Stair and began to descend. As they moved through the groups of women and
children each group in turn did an about face and began to follow. Pawel watched in confusion
as the entire group of people walked back the way they had come the previous day.
He couldn’t help himself, he had to ask what they were doing, “Where are you going?”
he called after them. “The Stairway is for climbing, not descending!” But his call went
unanswered and the people continued to descend around the curve of the Stair. Pawel watched
them go and was filled with uncertainty. He knew in his heart that they were doing something
incredibly wrong; that they were deviating from the clear direction of the Stair. It was made to
go up to Heaven, not back down to the Plain. He knew this to be true, but yet he hesitated. They
were the only people he had met. And they seemed to know so much about how to live on the
Stair. He didn’t feel it would be right to continue on without them. He didn’t feel confident
enough to do so. Pawel ran after them, moving quickly down the Stair and passing through the
people until he came to be beside the man who had been assigned to him. The man looked at
Pawel with something like disdain and said, “You must learn control, Pawel. You may not
continue to cause such disturbances. If you wish to remain with us then you must learn to
submit to our way. The Leader and the elders determine the direction of our travel, as they do
the order of our reading from the book and the form of our corporate prayer. You must learn to
accept what you do not understand and learn from us.”
Pawel thought about this for a moment and said, “But the Stairway goes up, I don’t
understand why we would be traveling down again. I just came up from the Plain, there is
nothing down there for us anymore.”
“You have to learn to trust your elders, Pawel. We have been walking this Stair for
much longer than you have. Up ahead there is only deviation from the way of Jesus and people
who pervert the Word of God into what it was never intended to be. We have learned that in
order to remain pure from their contamination we must keep to ourselves and remain on this
portion of the Stair.”
“But how then will you ever reach Heaven?” Pawel could not resist asking.
“We will reach Heaven in the day that Jesus returns for us,” the man said. “Until then,
we are instructed to wait and to do that which is pleasing in His sight.”
“When will Jesus return?” Pawel asked. He had not learned about this. He was
momentarily grateful that he had chosen to follow after the descending travelers.
“You have not read in your book of this great and glorious day?” Pawel shook his head.
The man continued, “Jesus Christ, who was slain from the foundation of the world, will one
day return and His enemies will be destroyed and we, His chosen people, will reign with Him
forever. So you see, we must remain where we are on the Stair, those ahead are our enemies

27
because they are enemies of Jesus. They will be destroyed and we will be welcomed into
Heaven.”
“Where in the book is this?” Pawel asked. He had not checked for today’s words but he
knew there was nothing as of yet to explain any of this. Jesus would be slain? He would return?
Enemies punished?
The man shook his head slowly, “You have much to learn, but I am glad to see that you
are beginning to see that for yourself. We will talk later, in the evening and I will begin to teach
you from the book.”

Joshua
Just then there was a commotion from the front of the group and the man hurried
forward to join his brothers, the elders. Pawel chased after him and when he broke through the
ring of men he found that they were standing over a sorry looking man who was lying flat on
his back upon the step. The man’s robe was torn and exceedingly muddy. His face was drawn
from either thirst or hunger, Pawel could not tell. And his hands were stretched out toward the
men seeking their support. The men stood impassively around the man as his eyes searched
theirs for some sign of compassion. “Please, sirs, would you give me a drink of cool water?”
The Leader spoke up, “Who are you and why are you in this state?”
The man found the speaker with his eyes and said, “I am Joshua, and I have come from
the Plain as you have. The Keeper was not at the Stair and I have tried to ascend without his
help or instruction.” The poor man told of his harrowing journey through the Plain. Of his work
to reach the dry firewood and of several other near escapes off the Path of the Plain below.
When he was finished the Leader spoke, his tone informing the the man that no help
would be forthcoming, “You are a deceiver sent to mislead us. We know that the Keeper is
always at the foot of the Stair. We see him each day as we descend, and each day he tells us to
return up the Stair. And if you truly are a traveler of the Plain you would know that to leave its
safety is certain death for you. That you have survived is only proof of your wicked origins.
You will find no succor here, be gone with you, we cast you out into the darkness!” With these
words still echoing up the beautiful spiral of the Stair the leader turned in a swirl of his robes
and began to descend once again. One by one the elders stepped over the man, ignoring his
pleas for help and for mercy, refusing even to make eye contact. Pawel stood transfixed in
place above the man and watched the women and children descend next, blindly following their
elders. Only the children paused to look at the man. The youngest among them reached out
their tiny hands to stroke the man’s weary face and a few secretly dropped morsels of food into
his dirty hands. Pawel was amazed at these gestures of compassion. What had come so
naturally to the children had somehow escaped the hearts of the adults. The children risked
severe discipline in order to show this kindness and the elders who risked nothing but a
momentary service did nothing. Pawel knew at that moment that he could no longer descend
with them. Whatever the hazards that lay ahead, whoever the people were that occupied the
higher steps, Pawel knew that this particular group was not on the proper course toward
Heaven. He remembered the words, “Love one another,” and he was sure. Just as on the Plain it
was dangerous but right to help out the next passing traveler, here also it must be right to stop
and help another. The man before him was in need and he was a fellow traveler, he would not
be on the Stair if he were not. Pawel reached down and helped the man to sit up. With his own
robes Pawel wiped the grime from the man’s face and hands, soiling his own robe with the
other’s filth. In the process, the man sat back against the cool of the marble Stair and sighed a

28
deep sigh. He ate the food that had been given him by the children and his color slowly
returned to his face. He turned to Pawel and said, “Bless you, Pawel. You are becoming what
God most desires for His children to be. You are compassionate and kind.”
Pawel was shocked to hear his name. How did the man know? As he was framing the
question Pawel watched as the man seemed to lengthen in form, his arms growing inches and
his legs filling out with muscle. The man’s hair turned deepest black and curled into tight
spirals covering his skull with its softness. His eyes took on a silver tint and the stains on his
robes melted away to reveal the whiteness beneath. “You are surprised? I thought you would be
ready for the unexpected by now, my friend.” The man laughed out loud at the expression of
wonder he saw on Pawel’s face. “You do have much to learn as your assigned friend has told
you. But you will not learn it from them as I am glad you have discovered for yourself. The
Keeper was right; you are not like most that will travel this Path. You are a thinker and a doer,
two things the Father most wants for His children. And you understand that to Love is the
greatest of all the commands He has given. To Love is the reason for all the other commands. It
is the purpose of the journey to the Stair and up its heights to Heaven. It surpasses all other
pursuits, something the Leader of the group you have just left has yet to learn. He will lead his
people up and down this Stair learning and relearning the same lessons. Each day the Keeper
will instruct him to ascend once again and each day the Leader will misunderstand. Only the
children truly understand but they will be perverted as well if they are not lucky enough to be
cast out by the elders.”
“What is the casting out they spoke of? It frightened me to think that there was a
darkness on the Stair that would claim me if I mis-stepped.”
The man with the silver eyes laughed again. “Do not worry about that. The darkness
they spoke of is only the lack of the presence of their own light. They regularly cast out
members of their group for perceived infractions of divine law, and it is the best thing to
happen to those poor souls who they leave behind for inevitably they decide to climb the Stair
themselves toward the top. You too must climb now, do not look back for beneath you is only
where you’ve already been. Look forward, to the lessons to yet to be learned. Remember to
keep moving. Remember to love. And thank you Pawel for your service to Me.”
The strange man’s transfiguration was complete. He was standing now, His height well
over Pawel’s and His arms outstretched toward him. Pawel stepped into His embrace and was
swallowed up in the richness of the robes and the scent of everything fresh; flowers, spring,
rushing water, the evening air. When the man released him Pawel staggered back and the man
simply disappeared. “Believe,” was whispered as He vanished and Pawel knew that he had just
seen the Lord. Hugging himself to recapture the feeling of being hugged by Jesus, Pawel turned
once again up the stair. He heard the steps of the group of travelers descending rapidly and he
shook his head at their arrogance and stubbornness. Replacing his satchel on his shoulder and
taking up his walking stick, Pawel began to climb the Stair once more.

More Holy Robes


As the morning sun crested the apex of the sky Pawel stopped at the railing and peered
out into the Plain. It stretched beneath him in all as far as he could see. From where he was on
the Stair the tall grasses looked like so much swirling green and yellow water, moving this way
and that as the wind would have it. Looking down to the ground Pawel could make out the
bottom most steps of the Stair as they flared out to meet the ground. The Stair was much too
large in circumference to see much of it from side to side so Pawel leaned out as far as he dared

29
and cast his eyes toward its top. The Stair shot skyward straight and true and Pawel could
barely make out its terminus as it pierced the mist of the atmosphere well above the few clouds
drifting in the sky. Pawel sat upon the step and eagerly opened his satchel to take out his book.
He had not read a thing since leaving the men and their strange group on the stair and he
chuckled to himself as to whether or not he’d be able to see in all of the darkness that he was
sitting in. The sun shone brightly over his shoulder and a gentle breeze gently turned the pages
of his book to the day’s new writing. Pawel shuddered at the wonder of God and His movement
in even the slightest of daily events. Pawel began to read.
“Put the sword into the sheath; the cup which the Father has given Me, shall I not drink
it?” Pawel was shocked to read the description of the armed men coming into the garden where
Jesus prayed to arrest Him. He was shocked to read of Peter’s defiant use of his sword to cut
off the ear of another man. His eyes were riveted to the page before him as line after line of
new text appeared, shining brilliantly at first and then fading to its usual soft shimmer of light.
He read on hurriedly and learned that Jesus was taken that fateful day into the courts of the high
priest and the governor. He read the Lord’s affirmation of His Heavenly kingdom and crown
and His call to all who would follow Him to listen to His voice. And then with sadness Pawel
read that Jesus was scourged, mocked and spat upon, and nailed viciously to a length of timber
and hung upon a wooden post to die and agonizing death.
Pawel stopped reading and closed his eyes tightly to block out the image of the bloody
Son of God that permeated his mind. But he could not escape it. Behind his eyelids stood Jesus
the Son of God, standing with His arms outstretched to the entire world asking them to come
close to Him and to remember His Father’s words. But the people of the world, His own chosen
children first of them all, refused Him and they turned their hate upon Him in full. Jesus
staggered under the weight of their blows and His glorious robes and shining aura were soiled
with the mobs spit and His own blood which poured profusely out to them from His hands and
feet. Pawel’s tears fell to his chest and dropped to the steps beneath him. He cried and moaned
and hugged himself in sorrow for what he read as the end of the story. The shining words had
ceased to appear and the wind had turned the page one final time and the next page was empty
and black as night.
What could this mean? Pawel cried out to the Heavens above him. How can this be, He
whispered to the Plain beneath him. The Lord had called him out of the Forest. The Lord had
led him to the cottage, had given him new sight, had taught him to trust and to love out on the
Plain, and had led him this far up the Stairway to Heaven. Had it all been for naught?
The wind blew against Pawel’s back as he slowly stood to look once again out over the
Plain. On the wind he heard a whisper just out of his ability to hear. Pawel leaned into the wind
to try to hear more clearly and it came again, slightly louder this time but still just under his
ability to understand it. A third time the wind whispered in Pawel’s ear and he heard the word,
“Believe.” That was what Jesus had said before leaving him. “Believe.” But what was he to
believe? How could a dead and buried savior be Lord of Heaven? Where is the power in death?
Is it in His words only? His words were beautiful and His teaching deep and wide and true. But
they killed Him. What was to believe?
And then Pawel remembered that he stood upon the Stair. He remembered that he had
walked the Plain. He remembered that in the Forest he had known nothing of the existence of
anything outside of his own small village and simple pleasures. With each step he had taken
Pawel realized that he had learned something new, something that previously he could never
have imagined. This next step would be the biggest one he would ever have to take. Jesus,

30
Lord, whoever the man was who had called him thus far was asking him to continue to walk on
in faith. Faith that what Pawel could not see, and could not possibly know would somehow lead
him to the greatest place ever promised to man: Heaven. Pawel resolved to move ahead. He
could not bring himself to trust completely because he had no understanding or even
knowledge of what he was trusting in. But he did trust that Someone knew and that one day
that Someone would finish His teaching of Pawel. With sadness Pawel hugged the book and
whispered, “I am so sorry,” to its leather cover. His last tear fell from his cheek upon the simple
design on the cover and it was then that Pawel understood the significance of the tiny mark. It
was the cross of Jesus. It was the form made when those two wicked pieces of wood were
fastened together to kill the Lord. It was the ultimate symbol of the man, the Son of God, the
Lord and the Christ. It represented all that Jesus was and is to mankind. Pawel put the book in
his satchel and continued his climb.
It was nearing the evening hours when Pawel’s stomach began to insist on being taken
notice of. Pawel had, of course, not eaten that day. He had left the group and therefore had left
the comfort of their provision. He did not know where they found their supplies and he could
see no way to provide his own. But, as had happened so often before, when Pawel first began to
wonder how the end would play out, the answer came as if it had been planned all along. From
around the slow curve of the ascending stair Pawel had started to notice a glow that brightened
as he approached. With the light ahead Pawel could make out strains of music and voices lifted
in song. Pawel heard laughter and shrieks from playing children. With high hopes for
companionship and new understanding about the way of life on the Stair, Pawel came upon a
large group of men, women, and children sitting together around a fire built directly upon the
steps that were singing and talking amongst themselves. They had food and drink that Pawel
could see was passed around freely among everyone. Their clothing was brightly colored and
loose fitting. Their hair was long and knotted in clumps of varying lengths. The men and
women were all but indistinguishable from each other, except in their faces, around their eyes
and their mouths. Pawel stood back from them for a moment taking them all in. They were
such a different group than the previous one he had encountered, but they were still so different
than what he had expected to find in people of the Stair. But they were joyful and they shared
with each other; that spoke of love, and love was the primary purpose of the Stair and its
travelers. So, with some hesitation, Pawel stepped into the light of the fire and made himself
known to the happy group.
“Well, hey there, brother!” Pawel was immediately greeted by a quickly rising man who
appeared to be the size of a grizzly. His beard and hair also gave him that distinct appearance
even without his incredible size and garrulous voice. “Look all! Another brother cast into the
darkness has made his way to the light!” The man’s deep baritone rolled around the curve of
the Stair and seemed to bounce off the heads of each face that turned toward them. On each of
the upturned faces was a contented smile. A few rose to shout their joy to the Lord. And more
than a few rose quickly to hug Pawel and pull him closer to the fire. The children continued to
dance around the fringes of the group and the adults resumed their seated positions, smiling
placidly and passing their numerous bowls of food. Bear, Pawel chuckled when the man
introduced himself as such, sat down heavily and pulled Pawel to the ground next to him. Bear
placed a heavy arm upon Pawel’s back and gave him an additional hug.
“You were cast out, weren’t you, brother?” Bear asked, not bothering to discover
Pawel’s name. “You came from down below and were forced out of that group who has
doomed themselves to forever travel the same steps each day?”

31
Pawel nodded uncertainly. He wasn’t sure but there was something amiss about this
group as well. The people sat and ate, and sang and talked with one another, but Pawel could
gather no sense of their words or reason behind their speech. It was as if they simply existed to
enjoy the moment, as free spirits, of a sort. Pawel had known villages in the Forest whose
people were similar. They ate strange foods and partook of secret herbs and minerals that they
mixed into secret formulations only they knew the purpose of. Pawel watched as this group
took from the bowls that were passed among them. The food looked Plain enough. Pawel
thought he recognized the vegetables and the drink. But the behavior of the people was strange.
They were placid one moment and exuberant the next. They sat in still stupors and then they
rose in exultation. Pawel smiled as he watched his neighbor fall forward into one of the bowls
and then exclaim, “Praise the Lord! I have found my sight!” The man’s eyes were covered with
a dark green paste that slowly dripped from his cheeks onto his beard which he slowly brought
up to his mouth and licked clean. The man smiled absently at Pawel and offered Pawel the
bowl.
Pawel passed it on and turned to Bear, “You are travelers up the Stair?”
Bear shook his head clear of whatever thought had momentarily possessed him and
replied, “Yes, my brother, don’t let our celebration fool you. We are followers of Jesus. We
travel this Stair as our obedience to Him. We obey His command to love each other and to
follow these steps to Heaven.”
“This celebration then, this is in honor of Jesus, or do you have a special occasion you
are commemorating?”
“This is what we do every night, my friend. The Lord has given so much, we try each
night to give back to Him by celebrating His name with our family. Each night we eat the food
He has given us and we sing praises to His name and we welcome all men to share in our
bounty. You are welcome too, my brother. Relax your tired muscles. Cast off the confusion
placed upon you by our overly rigid brothers and sisters down below. Enjoy the light of the fire
and bask in the love of Jesus who has given it to us.”
Pawel listened to Bear speak and was soothed by the rightness he heard in the large
man’s words. It was reassuring to hear the very priorities he himself held dear be iterated by
another man. He allowed his fear and apprehension to lessen and thanked his neighbor warmly
when the next bowl was passed. Pawel sampled a little of the food it contained and was
surprised at the amount of taste his small portion contained. The vegetable Pawel thought he
recognized had been spiced with a seasoning Pawel had never encountered. But it was
wonderful. Warmth radiated from his tongue down into his belly when he swallowed and he
could feel the strain of worry and misunderstanding slowly escape his tired body. He sampled
more of the food as it was passed and began to understand the songs and the exclamations. As
the night progressed Pawel lost track of time and became separated from his body in mind. He
felt himself float above the fire and dance with the images of the others. The smiles were
infectious and the fire’s flames choreographed their dance. Pawel could see his body far below
on the step, sleeping close to the flames, among the other men and women of the group.
Pawel woke to the incessant pounding of a drum coming from the far reaches of the
Plain. The light was shattering to his senses as he slowly opened one eye to greet the morning.
Nausea rippled through his body as he tried to stand to look out over the railing. The railing
was already crowded when he managed to find his place there. The men and women of the fire
were lined up along the edge of the railing leaning over its pristine side and emptying
themselves of the previous night’s poison. Pawel felt his own stomach heave and saw his waste

32
plummet to the ground and intermix with that of the rest of the group. He felt shame and
dismay at soiling the Stair and abusing its steps. And then he saw his own robe. Its edges were
singed from laying too close to the heat of the fire and it was covered with a myriad of food
stains from his drunken table manners of the night before. He was ashamed of himself and he
knew instantly that the group he had found were not what they had appeared to be and he was
angry at them and at himself for being so easily taken in.
A rough hand slapped him on the back and he smelled Bear’s words before he heard
them, “Good morning little man! I see you have found your way to the wall just in time. It is
not right to do our morning oblations on the step you know. We must take aim over the edge.
The Master would want it that way.”
Pawel shook off the man’s arm angrily. “Why did you not tell me the food was drugged
last night? I ate and drank and lost all self control! I feel terrible this morning! The Master
would not be pleased with me, no matter where I did my ‘oblation.’”
Bear smiled; the smile of the contented. “That is the way it always is with newcomers to
the Stair. You expect so much, and your ideals are so high! You are to be praised my man, but
you must remember, we have been on this Stair much longer than you and therefore we must
know something more than you do about its way, don’t you think? Come, wake up with us a
while, join our travel today, pray with us, and then see if maybe you have judged us too
quickly.”
Pawel felt his anger lessen and he began to soften his attitude toward the big man.
Maybe the man was right. Their ways certainly were different than he had expected. And they
were much more pleasant than the other group he had traveled with. Bear did mention prayer
and most importantly, he mentioned traveling the Stair. Pawel let himself be directed by Bear
to the larger group who had overheard Pawel’s outburst and were quietly waiting to see the
result of Bear’s cajoling. Pawel met their eyes steadily and said, “Please forgive me, I am new
to the Stair. And I was a little unprepared for flying last night.” At Pawel’s joke the mood
lightened, hands flew to Heaven and the men and women beamed their acceptance of him.
Bear stepped into the middle of the ring of adults, while the children resumed their play
of the night before around the edges, and said, “Blessed Father of our loving Jesus. Thank You
for a new day and a new chance to love each other in new ways. May we learn what You desire
of us this day and may Your blessings abound to each and every one of Your children.” Bear
dropped his arms and stepped back to grasp the hands of Pawel and a woman standing next to
him. As one the group formed a circle by holding hands and began to sway side to side with
their eyes closed. As they swayed Pawel began to hear murmurs and moans. The voices began
soon after and within a short time the circle was buzzing with whispered prayers and cries for
mercy. Praises went out from silent lips and song poured forth. Pawel opened his eyes furtively
and looked at the men and women surrounding him. They were lost in a rapture that he could
not imitate. They seemed to place themselves in a different place and the emotion of the group
swelled inside each of them. Pawel watched in wonder as the wave crested and the men and
women settled down into their places again and eyes opened and hands were released.
“Thank you friends, let us begin our journey. And remember, if any have need, let
another know so that blessings may abound!”
As they began to form smaller groups for the morning’s travel Pawel asked Bear, “Do
you not read from the book at the beginning of each day?”
“The book?” Bear asked. Bear smiled that great smile of his that was filled with
patience and understanding. “We do have the book, of course. But no,” he said smiling again,

33
“we do not read in it every day.” Bear stressed the word ‘every’ as if it were a ridiculous
notion.
Pawel was surprised at this answer. He had supposed that this people simply read it at a
different time then the other group. He could not imagine why they would not read it at all!
“But why, if you don’t mind my asking,” Pawel said.
“Of course I don’t mind your asking. In this group on the Stair questions are honored
and treated with the utmost respect. We are here to love each other, and your question strikes at
the very heart of our beliefs as to how to love each other, yourself included. You see, each of us
came upon the Stair in much the fashion that you yourself did. We traveled the Plain, met the
Keeper and began our climb. We too were filled with longing to reach the top and to meet
Jesus. But then each of us met that other group of misguided brothers down below. We each in
turn were cast out and we found our way to this section of the Stair where we gathered together
and decided to form our own group of travelers. In our separate experiences we discovered that
it was the other group’s rigid understanding of the book that led them to behave in the manner
that you yourself have witnessed. It was their rigidity to the rules of the book and the supposed
rules of the Stair that forced them to become rigid themselves, even to the point of ignoring the
greatest command that each of us has received, which is to love each other. We decided that
while we will retain the book as a token of our belief we will not give it undue attention in our
travels. We have discarded all of our personal copies and now carry only one, which we pass
around the group in order for each member to get an opportunity to carry it. In this way we
have found that we are able to explore our freedom and our pleasure while remembering our
duty to each other. Does this answer your question?”
Pawel was silent during Bear’s response. No book? “Then how do you learn of Jesus
and of the way to Him in Heaven?” he asked. The people had gathered around now to see what
the delay was about. Bear turned to face Pawel. He reached his large hands out and grasped
Pawel firmly by the shoulders and looked him deep in the eyes. “My friend, you are on the
Stairway to Heaven! Your path is already laid out before you, you need no further learning of
the way.” Bear reached and pointed his considerable finger ahead into the curve of the Stair,
“That is the way. We are its travelers, follow us!”
Bear released Pawel and motioned the others to begin the day’s travel. Together they
began to climb the great Stair. But then they stopped and a strange thing happened. As a group
they retreated a couple of steps. Pawel thought he may have missed something because of his
troubled thoughts but sure enough when the group proceeded upward again, this time
advancing three steps, they quickly stopped and then receded two more steps. A pattern, or
more accurately, a rhythm, quickly developed and in a short time the entire group of brightly
clad freedom lovers was stutter stepping forward and backward up the stair. After several
minutes they had only progressed a single step from their original point of departure and after a
half an hour they had barely made it to the first curve of the Stair that Bear had so proudly
pointed at. Pawel stopped his travel altogether and watched in amazement.
This was a new thing, Pawel marveled. This group was so different from the other.
These people were accepting where the other rejected. These people considered seriously their
duty to care for each other where the other refused. But they had handicapped themselves by
not availing themselves of the source of their wisdom and strength. By refusing the book they
had scorned the Word from which it came. And as such their travel was automatically hindered.
They were higher on the Stair than their arrogant brothers below but they were never going to

34
reach the heights of Heaven if they continued to march in the manner they had been
accustomed to.
“Stop!” Pawel cried. “Stop!” He had to repeat himself several more times before the
stamping and stutter stepping group was able to break free from the ridiculous rhythm that they
had melded into. They broke free from their stepping and looked quizzically at the newcomer.
“What are you doing?” Pawel asked.
“We are climbing Pawel, really, you must be able to see that we are on our way.” Bear
again took responsibility of dealing with the increasingly annoying new brother.
“But you are making no real progress! Your stepping is more dance than function. You
move ahead only to retreat even further. You proceed but then you remove most of your
progress. Why don’t you climb as the Keeper has commanded?”
Bear started at Pawel’s words. He acted as if he had never heard such a thing proposed
before. “Stepping is life, Pawel, and life must have rhythm. We step because we enjoy the
climb, we dance in life because we beat with its purpose. Our progress is determined by the
rhythm of the day. Today we step this way, tomorrow another. Surely you do not propose that
there is only one way to climb this Stair?” Bear stressed a single word to emphasize Pawel’s
folly.
Pawel looked from face to face and decided that he must leave this group as well. His
instinct from the morning was correct after all. To stay with this group, even though they truly
loved and truly believed was to stagnate on the Stair, and he knew that must never happen.
What would become of these he was unsure. As they began to find their rhythm once again
Pawel carefully picked his way through them and out in front of them. Looking back upon
them Pawel smiled at the way the rhythm kind of found itself. They looked like so many
skittering bugs on the surface of a pond, each one moving this way and that until the ripple
comes and they began to move as one. Up and back they stepped, side to side they swayed.
With a shrug, Pawel turned back to the Stair before him and began to climb with the morning
sun. And as he did his pounding head began to heal and his churning stomach ceased its roiling.
He was on his way.

Companion
By midday Pawel was beginning to breathe a lighter air than he had ever experienced
before. He could see well into the Plain and again marveled at the enormity of it in comparison
to the Forest which now appeared only a smudge on the surface of the horizon in the west.
Pawel stopped his upward travel to pause and reflect at the rail. The Plain stretched endlessly
before him and the clouds beneath Heaven stretched endlessly above him. In the great expanses
between the clouds the light of the sun shone mercifully down upon the Plain and upon the
Stair on which he steadfastly continued to climb. “Thank You, Jesus, for granting me this day.
This day to walk and to climb, this day to read and to learn, and this day to grow closer to You
in body and in spirit. For I know that I get nearer to You each and every day that I continue to
move forward up this Stair. And I know that each day that I read and think upon the words You
have shown me in your great book I grow wiser and closer to the heart of You and Your Father.
Thank you Lord!” Pawel shouted this last, his exuberance simply overcame him. The travail of
the past two day’s climb had worn him out considerably. The meeting of the two very disparate
and dysfunctional groups of believers had sorely tested his faith and his conviction. To be free
of them, to have passed them by and to still be heading upward and onward seemed a great
victory. Smiling at the echo of his cry rebounding down the stairs to the believers below Pawel

35
took a seat against the wall of the Stair and pulled the book to himself and opened it to the
day’s new words. He was astonished to read of the happenings in that faraway place called
Jerusalem on the first day of the week after the horror of the crucifixion and death of Jesus. He
cheered as he read of the women who dutifully went to the tomb of the Lord to prepare His
body properly for burial and found not only the stone moved from the opening of the tomb but
the tomb itself empty. He was as curious as they were as to what could have happened and
hoped against hope that what they asked of the ‘gardener’ would not be true. And he laughed
out loud when he discovered who the gardener truly was and took in the full import of His
words, “Go to my brethren and tell them I ascend to my Father and your Father, my God and
your God.” Pawel sat back down, for in his excitement he had jumped up and raced ahead quite
a few steps up the Stair. “It is a miracle; He lives!” Pawel shouted out to the sky and the clouds
that were ever so near to him now. Jesus Christ was indeed the Savior who died and came back
and who truly saved those He was sent to save. For the Lord, death was not the end but the
beginning of the promise for all who would believe in His name; the Name above all other
names, the Name that could alone save a man from the death and putrefaction of living in the
world and the world alone. All hail the name of Jesus, the Name who brings freedom from
slavery and life everlasting!
Pawel forced himself to go back down the steps to retrieve his satchel and walking stick
and then resettled himself against the wall of the Stair again. He made a conscious vow to
himself to remain in the seated position, no matter what he might read next. “Wouldn’t do any
good to race off into nothingness and plummet to the ground in my excitement! Not when I am
this close to Heaven!”
The rest of the pages in his book were filled with the end of the incredible account of
the Word of God. Pawel read of Thomas and the words he received from Jesus, “Blessed are
they who did not see and have believed.” It is truly belief in Jesus that allows one to partake of
the gift of God. It is belief in His love and His sacrifice on His creation’s behalf that makes one
a true child of God. “And that is what I am now Lord, because I believe in you,” Pawel said to
the Stair. His words echoed around the last bend that lay before him, although he had no notion
that his trip was about to end. The last words that Pawel read were of Jesus’ words to Peter
commanding him to love the flock of God, to be their shepherd and feed them and care for
them and to help them to become His children as well. Pawel closed the book and rubbed his
hand over the cover, thumbing the imprint of the small golden cross that was embossed on the
spine. He prayed aloud, “Thank you, Jesus, for leaving me these words. Thank you, Jesus, for
being these words. And thank you, God, for giving me both these words and the Word of Life,
Jesus Christ. Amen”
Pawel looked down the Stair and smiled sadly at the two groups that he had met and
passed along the way. He thought he could hear Bear and his followers rhythmically stutter
stepping and chanting their way up and down and around the great Stairway. He even thought
he caught on the wind a stern rebuke given no doubt to a new follower of the holy rob-ed ones
who had so carelessly cast him out. He wondered how long they would continue to return to the
base of the Stair and be told to resume their climb by the Keeper. Would these two groups ever
make it to the top? He turned his gaze forward, as it should be, and he took his feet. Settling his
satchel upon his shoulder, grasping his walking stick firmly, and chuckling inside at how
perfectly the story in his book had turned out, Pawel began his new day’s climb. He had not
made it more than three or four steps when he was bowled over from behind by a woman,

36
dressed in simple white as he was, but running very quickly up the steps, taking them two at a
time, and sometimes three!
“Excuse me, I am so sorry!” she shouted as both she and Pawel tumbled onto the stone
steps and landed in a heap of legs, sticks and satchels. The newcomer giggled. Pawel grunted as
he worked to untangle himself from the woman and caught himself smoothing down his robes
and adopting a self-righteous look of indignation at the impropriety of running on such a grand
and sacred Stair. He was even about to say something to that effect when he noticed the woman
looking up at him, her eyes sparkling and the corners of her mouth twitching with mirth. “Are
you going to say it?” she asked, still not making any move toward standing, and looking more
than ever as if she was about to break into a full fledged laugh.
“Say what?” Pawel retorted. Surely she did not know his mind!
“Are you going to reprove me for running into you? For running must not be a suitable
mode for climbing these steps, can it?”
“Well, I’m not sure it is unacceptable, but it is probably not the best way to get to the
top, that’s for sure, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Maybe I should stutter step, or better yet walk solemnly backward. Would that be more
to your liking?” She was still smiling.
“If you are trying to see which camp I belong to, you can rest assured. I’ve met both of
the groups below and I have left both groups, most likely as you yourself have done as well.”
“Oh no,” the woman said, still laying on the step, although she had made herself more
comfortable and was now resting her head on one of her hands. “I never even slowed down to
take a look at them. I am so intent on getting to the top, and I am so enjoying the run of it that I
bowled them over pretty much as I have done for you!” She smiled at the recollection of the
holy rob-ed ones in particular. “The rob-ed ones made quite a fuss! I’m surprised that you
didn’t hear them!”
With this she stood up and extended her hand to Pawel. Pawel remembered the leader’s
warning about shaking hands on the Stair and grasped only her hand in his. Laughing, the
woman pulled him toward her and gave him a warm and tender hug. “That is the way a brother
and a sister greet one another,” she said. “My name is Maria.”
Pawel was taken aback by her warmth and her joy. He had never met one quite like her
before. She seemed so free and simple. Her way was joyful and without worry, whereas his was
marked with apprehension and confusion.
“How did you come to the Stair?” he asked.
“The same as any other comes. I came through the Plain from my own Forest. But when
I heard that Jesus loved me and wanted nothing other for me than to come to Him and to live
forever, well, I haven’t stopped running since. Can you imagine what it will be like for us? To
live in Heaven forever? No more Forest, no more darkness, no more confusion or worry. And
best of all, no more lies. We will be free to live and to move and to create and to take joy in all
of creation without ever being torn apart by the lies of the world. I for one, cannot wait!”
Pawel became excited by Maria’s speech and reached for her hand again, “I am Pawel,
Maria. And it is very nice to meet you. I was getting lonely on my journey and it was a very
welcome surprise to be run over by you! Have you read today’s writing? Isn’t it wonderful?
Jesus is alive!”
“Well of course He is! Haven’t you been seeing Him all along the way? Haven’t you
been talking to Him at night and in the day? Who were you praying to if He was not alive?”
Maria laughed out loud; it seemed she did a lot of that. “He is alive now and forever and He is

37
waiting for us just up those stairs! Every day I imagine that the Lord will be meeting me just
around the next curve of this great spiral. The more I imagine it the more real it becomes and
the more excited I get. It gets so unbearable that I have to run.” She paused as if considering
something. “Will you run with me?”
Pawel could think of nothing he would rather do than finish this journey hand in hand
with Maria. He grasped her by the hand and said, “Race you to the top!” And with that the
newly united brother and sister were racing as fast as their feet would carry them. Their
laughter was heard all up and down the spiral Stair. Down below it caused the holy rob-ed ones
to grumble and to shake their heads in sadness at the lost-ness of those still trapped in the their
own light. But up above them their laughter sounded like music and caused the great gates of
Heaven to tremble with joy and the Keeper himself to make ready to swing them wide to
receive her newly found sheep.
They ran on and on, each playfully trying to overtake the other. At times they ran side
by side and hand in hand. At other times they ran one behind the other. Sometimes they even
tripped each other up as Maria had tripped up Pawel when they met. But no matter how bad the
fall, they continued to stand and to run together. And in the end their labors paid off. The sun
was making its final descent and was exuberantly lighting the stair and the Plain in fantastic
shades of red and orange when Maria and Pawel fell forward onto the earth, sprawling and
rolling to a stop in complete bewilderment. The step they were reaching for next had vanished,
or more accurately, had never been there in the first place. The spiral Stairway had ended! They
had reached the top so suddenly that they did not have time to recover their balance when,
instead of placing their foot on the next higher step they instead found only a flat and level
ground. It was as if they had come up out of a vertical tunnel from the depths of darkness into
the light of day. As beautiful as the Plain below and its sun’s rays were, as solid and secure and
elegant the steps of the Stairway to Heaven were, the place they now found themselves in was
greater by far. They shielded themselves from the light that accosted their eyes and their
bodies. They could not only feel its warmth against their eyelids, but could feel it massaging
and caressing the rest of their bodies as well. This light came not from the sun in the sky, for
that was only below, on the Plain. This light was coming from out of the air itself. It was as if
the air they breathed was light; they could even feel it in their lungs and coming out their pores
and nostrils. It took a moment for them to gain their composure but when they did they were
finally able to open their eyes and begin to see what lay before them. Pawel helped Maria to her
feet and together they held hands and looked out into the new world that they had finally
arrived in. It was beautiful as I’m sure you can imagine. Its colors were deeper and more
vibrant than the world’s. Its fragrance was like nothing they had ever encountered. But its
difference was more than that. This new place was alive in a way that the world we know is
not. Every single element therein, whether it was the grass at their feet or the clouds in the sky,
everything pulsed with a life that powerfully called them to join into. They were compelled to
move forward onto the only Path that was visible and as they walked they began to change.
Pawel noticed it first. His simple white robe melted away and his skin began to shine in a
thousand places. As he gasped his astonishment, Maria began to change as well. In moments
the two were gleaming like molten silver while being pushed along the path by an unseen wind
that made their journey effortless.
Without clothes and without body they arrived at the fabled gates of Heaven and were
greeted by their old friend, the Keeper. “Welcome my brother and sister.” His smile was
enormous and his body was just as they had seen below, only moreso. He was filled with life in

38
this new place, just as the plants and animals they had seen were. His heart pulsed in rythmn to
the Heaven he inhabited. His robe was different as well. It was a dazzling shade of blue, as
deep as the ocean and swirling with its waves and currents. “You made us rejoice to hear you
laughing and playing on the Stair. You have made it in good time sister Maria. And you have
found good company in brother Pawel. Welcome to you both.”
With that the Keeper opened wide the gates and ushered the newly found into their new
home. As they moved through the gates, again by the unseen wind, they were mysteriously
clothed in their own special and unique robes. Maria’s robe was of the tenderest lavender that
fragrantly went before and after her as she moved. Pawel’s robe was of a sturdy burgundy,
which rustled as he walked as a reminder to always keep moving or he would cease to hear it
sound. Waiting for them as they arrived upon their feet in their new bodies and robes was their
Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Immediately, they fell to their feet in praise and worship of their
Master. Jesus smiled upon them both, but just as quickly pulled them to their feet. “Here we
are, brothers and sisters, my friends. Here you are welcome and here you will live. Maria will
you give me one of your special hugs?”
Maria giggled out loud and ran forward to the waiting arms of Jesus. As Jesus enfolded
her into His chest Pawel saw for a moment the semblance of the cross in His outstretched arms.
He was reminded of all that had to have happened in order for that hug to have been possible
and the thought was sobering.
“You are right to remember, Pawel. But here, in this place, we remember with joy and
thanksgiving. The time for you two to be sober has passed. The time for celebration and
thanksgiving is at hand. Will you come to Me and greet Me Pawel?”
Pawel stepped forward slowly. He wanted desperately to hug as Maria had, but was
unsure if Jesus would allow it. As he moved toward Jesus with only his hand outstretched he
caught in the eye of his Master the same look he had seen in Maria’s only a short time ago. It
was a look that asked, “Are you going to do it?”
Pawel’s uncertainty vanished in that moment and he was then forever then sure of the
love of his Maker for him and him alone. He rushed into the waiting arms of Jesus and together
with his sister Maria, hugged his Savior forever and ever.
Mike Spencer
July 9, 2010

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