If it takes a village to raise a child what does it take to get into heaven? Who will greet me when I get there? What will it be like? How will it feel to see the dearly beloved of forever?
Recently I arrived home to many familiar voices as I parked my car near the semi-detached row of homes that has been “home“ since I was two. Eight voices, ranging in age from one to 11, screaming my name with utter abandon.
It was almost like a song, “Hinda, HINDA BAYLA… Hinda Binda Schminda Bayla.”
I know them all, we live in close quarters. We talk, play, laugh, cry, sing — we have a history. I engage and share my knowledge of the world so far. With school starting and the pandemic still in force, the heat of the summer fading, energies were high. Excitement and camaraderie, “Hinda, Hinda.” My thoughts were a pleasant surprise. Will it be like this when I arrive in Shamayim? Is this a small taste of what it will be like when I find myself in heaven?
Actually, I would hope it would be more melodious and warm rather than deafening to my sensitive ears. Still, it is welcome, an experience for which I am truly grateful: spirited and hearty from neighbors and friends, all of them playmates through thick and thin.
Just wondering, how would you like to be greeted when you arrive in heaven?
Read more by Hinda Blum.