In the Democratic Republic of the Congo, a land torn apart by decades of conflict, violence, and profound injustice, Espoir lay there, by then consumed by illness. Around him remained only a few of his loved ones, those whom war and adversity had spared. Their faces were marked by suffering, yet in their eyes there still remained something that no war had managed to destroy: Love.
Espoir breathed slowly. Each breath seemed more difficult than the one before. Multiple myeloma had consumed his body, progressively depriving him of his strength. And yet, within him, something seemed strangely peaceful.
He looked at his family.
“Do not cry.”
His mother squeezed his hand.
“How can we not cry?”
Espoir smiled weakly.
“Because we will see each other again.”
“When?”
The young man remained silent for a few moments, as if searching within his mind for an answer that could be understood by those who still lived within time.
“Soon. Much sooner than you can imagine. The time we have on Earth seems enormous while we are living it… but in Eternity, it is nothing more than the blink of an eye. It is like a grain of sand in the Sahara Desert. We struggle for that grain, often even wasting it… without realizing that the desert is infinite.”
A tear rolled down his mother’s face.
Espoir continued:
“Do not be afraid for me. I have suffered, yes. And I would have wished that no one ever had to suffer as I did. But perhaps this very suffering taught me something that otherwise I would never have understood.”
In recent years, the young man had watched the world deteriorate in many places: wars, persecutions, hunger, corruption, hatred, untreated diseases, children deprived of their childhood, and people forced to flee their own lands.
He had often even thought about how absurd it was that humanity possessed knowledge capable of saving lives and, at the same time, allowed millions of people to die because they lacked diagnostic resources, medicines, healthcare facilities, and adequate treatment.
It was not illness itself that was unjust, but inequality.
Where the means to heal the body were lacking, it became even more difficult to cultivate serenity of the soul; and where war, hatred, fear, and oppression prevailed, the Virtues seemed to find no ground in which to take root.
At a certain point, Espoir closed his eyes, and his final breath was almost imperceptible.
Suddenly, the young man had the sensation of becoming incredibly light. He no longer felt pain, nor did he feel the weight of those bones so eroded by illness; it was as though something had gently freed him from matter.
Then he opened his eyes, and before him he saw his entire earthly life unfold.
He saw his childhood, the faces of his parents, his homeland. He saw again the happy days and the painful ones, the people he had met, the words he had spoken, those he had left unspoken, the opportunities he had lost, the acts of kindness he had performed almost without realizing it.
Yet he also saw his own faults and understood them, experiencing an inner pain.
Every action appeared in its true nature, free from the justifications with which human beings often cover their choices.
He saw the pain he had caused and the pain he had alleviated. He saw the times when he had chosen Good despite it being more difficult, and he understood that nothing had truly disappeared: every action had left a trace.
The journey continued, and the Earth became smaller and smaller.
He saw continents, oceans, mountains, cities, forests; places he had never visited and others he knew only through stories and images.
Then he saw something he could never have imagined: above the material world there seemed to exist other regions of existence—not simply places farther away, but dimensions, levels, states of being.
Each time he crossed a new threshold, perception became subtler, brighter, vaster, and with it he too seemed to transform.
Suffering no longer existed, and a wondrous Light enveloped him.
It was not a light that came from a sun; it seemed to arise everywhere, even within him.
It filled him with a Peace so profound that, for the first time, Espoir understood how incomplete every earthly definition of happiness had been.
At a certain point, the journey came to a halt.
Before him appeared a world that was not Earth: immense green and flowering expanses stretched to the horizon; trees of unknown forms moved gently beneath a breeze that seemed to possess its own music; crystalline rivers crossed immense plains, and animals of species he had never seen lived alongside one another without fear.
There was no waste, no pollution, no destruction.
The flora and fauna did not struggle for survival as they did on Earth, but seemed to participate in the same harmony.
Espoir stood motionless.
“Where am I?”
A voice answered behind him.
“Home.”
Espoir turned around.
From a distance, a figure more than two meters tall was approaching.
His skin was blue, luminous, and uniform. His hair was white, with almost golden, yellowish reflections, and seemed to emit a faint light of its own. His face was serene, with a magnificent smile.
Espoir looked at him in astonishment.
The figure extended his hand toward him.
“Espoir. Welcome to your new dimension.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Orthon.”
“You are… an angel?”
Orthon smiled.
“That is how you on Earth would define what I am. I have been your Guide. I accompanied, inspired, and protected you within the limits permitted by your path.”
Espoir lowered his gaze.
“Then you were with me even when I could not see you?”
“Much more often than you can imagine.”
Espoir looked at that world once again.
“It is enchanting. I never thought something like this could exist.”
“There exists much more than your earthly mind could ever have conceived.”
“Am I dead?”
Orthon remained silent for a moment.
“Your body is dead. You are not.”
Espoir breathed deeply, even though he no longer needed to breathe.
“And why am I here?”
“Because your journey on Earth has ended.”
“And now?”
“Now another journey begins.”
Orthon began to walk.
Espoir followed him.
“You see this dimension?” the Guide said.
“Yes.”
“It is not the highest.”
Espoir stopped.
“It isn’t?”
Orthon smiled.
“No. It is simply the one that, at this moment, corresponds most closely to what you have become.”
“So there are other dimensions?”
“Infinite.”
Espoir looked at the sky.
“Truly infinite?”
“Perhaps ‘infinite’ is still too small a word.”
The Guide raised a hand. The sky changed, and Espoir saw other worlds appearing in the distance.
Some were similar to theirs, while others were completely different.
He saw dimensions where matter seemed almost nonexistent, regions made of light and forms he could not comprehend, worlds in which souls seemed to assume different configurations, not necessarily anthropomorphic, places where consciousness appeared to manifest itself through colors, sounds, geometries, and vibrations.
“The Creator did not construct only one way of existing,” Orthon explained. “He made the Universe more varied than anyone could imagine. Every world, every dimension, every region of existence may possess different laws, forms, and levels of awareness, many of which have understood and aligned themselves with the Order of the Supreme Good.”
“And why is Earth so different?”
Orthon looked at him.
“Because Earth is a school.”
“A school?”
“One of the hardest.”
Espoir lowered his eyes.
“Now I understand.”
“On Earth, the soul is placed before conditions that continually test what it is. Freedom, pain, loss, wealth, poverty, illness, power, love, hatred, fear… everything can become a test.”
“Even suffering?”
“Yes.”
“But then does that mean that every suffering is chosen?”
Orthon slowly shook his head.
“Do not simplify something that is far more complex. Not all suffering is directly chosen by the soul, because some of it is the consequence of one’s own actions, and no suffering should ever be used as a justification for the evil committed by human beings. Real injustices, real violence, and real responsibilities exist.”
Espoir looked at him attentively.
“Then what did you mean?”
“Before the earthly experience, some souls may accept certain difficult conditions because they believe they may contribute to their own growth. But once they are born on Earth, they do not necessarily remember that choice. And it is precisely this forgetfulness that makes the test of freedom authentic.”
Espoir remained silent for a long time.
“So even my illness…”
Orthon did not answer immediately.
“Your illness was not a punishment.”
Those words seemed to release something within Espoir.
“Then why? Perhaps it was meant to elevate me more and more.”
“In your case, yes. However, not every answer is given immediately. Some encompass the entire journey of a soul, while others are connected to experiences that only a higher consciousness can understand.”
“You know everything?”
Orthon smiled.
“No.”
Espoir seemed surprised.
“You are my Guide and you do not know everything?”
“To know much does not mean to know everything. We, too, belong to a journey. There are regions of existence that even I have not crossed. There are mysteries belonging to dimensions so elevated that any understanding I might have of them would still be incomplete.”
“So you are learning too.”
“Yes.”
“That comforts me.”
Orthon laughed softly.
“Why?”
“Because on Earth I thought that knowledge meant reaching the point of knowing everything once we arrived in another dimension.”
“And instead?”
“Now I understand that true knowledge might be knowing how much we still do not know. Always continually becoming, in fieri.”
Orthon nodded.
“This is one of the first things souls learn when they begin to ascend.”
They walked on.
“But if higher beings capable of reaching higher dimensions exist, why do they not always intervene on Earth?”
Orthon became more serious.
“Because helping does not necessarily mean preventing every negative event.”
“I do not understand.”
“Imagine a soul that must make a choice. If we intervened continuously in its place, we would take away precisely what it must learn: True Freedom.”
“And yet there are people who die without ever having had a chance.”
“It is true.”
“There are children who die in wars, people who suffer from treatable diseases but have no access to treatment, entire peoples who are destroyed.”
“I know.”
“And you watch?”
Orthon looked directly into his eyes.
“We do not watch with indifference. But spiritual intervention cannot completely erase the consequences of the choices made by creatures endowed with free will.”
Espoir lowered his head.
“And when a soul is completely surrounded by darkness?”
“The Light does not cease to exist.”
“But can it reject it?”
“It can reject it for a long time. It can close itself off. It can identify itself so completely with hatred, violence, and the thirst for power that it no longer recognizes the Light when it appears before it.”
“And then is it abandoned?”
“Never permanently. But there are paths in which the soul must experience profound consequences before it can once again desire the Light.”
“Can even those souls rise again?”
“The possibility of redemption is not erased lightly.”
Espoir remained thoughtful.
“Then evil is not eternal.”
“Evil may seem eternal to those who live through it. But the Light is Perfect and Eternal.”
Suddenly, the landscape changed.
Espoir saw Earth, but not as he had seen it during his life. He saw it from above.
He saw its magnificent forests, oceans, deserts, and mountains.
Then Orthon revealed what lay behind appearances.
Espoir saw wars being prepared in rooms of power, men discussing territories, resources, oil, gold, gas, and economic interests while entire populations were reduced to numbers.
He saw corruption, governments bowing before stronger powers, secret agreements, propaganda, populations deliberately driven against other populations.
He saw racism being fueled because hatred makes it easier to govern, children growing up learning to fear someone they had never even met.
He also saw forests destroyed, rivers contaminated, lands impoverished, seas suffocating.
He saw money becoming an idol.
And above all, he saw something that deeply affected him: he saw how little was necessary to make a human being happy—namely, a home, food, a family, a little security, someone to love, an opportunity to study, and access to healthcare.
And yet millions of people were deprived even of all of this.
“Why?” Espoir asked.
Orthon did not look away.
“Because many earthly souls have confused the value of existence with possession.”
“Money?”
“Money is a ruthless instrument, which humans have transformed into an idol, into a measure of human worth.”
Espoir saw immense wealth accumulated by a few.
“And these people do not understand?”
“Very few truly understand. Others do not want to understand.”
“Why?”
“Because power can become a prison stronger than poverty.”
Espoir continued to observe.
“And ordinary people?”
“Many live inside a reality constructed for them. They chase images, status, possessions, approval. They believe that freedom consists in always having something more.”
“And instead?”
“Freedom also consists in being able to live without being slaves to what one possesses.”
Espoir smiled bitterly.
“On Earth, I had sensed that.”
“And indeed, that is one of the reasons you are here.”
Orthon then caused a different image to appear.
Espoir saw people helping one another: a doctor treating a sick person without asking anything in return, a man sharing his bread, a woman protecting a child who was not her own, a young man risking his life to save a stranger, a teacher continuing to teach despite poverty, an elderly person forgiving, a mother praying, a child smiling despite having almost nothing.
“Look.”
Espoir watched.
“Good still exists.”
“Good has never ceased to exist.”
“But then why does it seem so fragile?”
“Because evil makes noise. Good very often works in silence, without needing to boast.”
Espoir was moved.
“And me?”
“You chose Good many times when no one forced you to do so.”
“I did not feel special.”
“You did not need to.”
“And this brought me here?”
“Your deeds, your knowledge of Good, the Virtues you sought to practice, the resilience with which you endured suffering… all of this contributed to your evolution.”
Orthon pointed toward the dimension in which they stood.
“Your consciousness could not have remained in a dimension dominated exclusively by lower impulses. You would have continued to suffer because you were no longer in harmony with it.”
Espoir looked at the landscape again.
“So Paradise is not a reward.”
Orthon smiled.
“It is a consequence.”
“Of what?”
“Of what you have become.”
“And now I will ascend further?”
“If you continue to grow.”
“And when will it end?”
Orthon looked at the sky.
“I do not know.”
“You do not know?”
“None of us knows the entire journey.”
“Not even those who are far more elevated than you?”
“Perhaps they know what remains hidden from us. But even they are part of something infinitely greater.”
“And the Creator?”
Orthon smiled.
“The Creator is not simply a peak to reach, as one reaches the summit of a mountain.”
“Then Who is He?”
“A Reality that the more you know, the more you understand that you cannot completely contain.”
Espoir remained silent.
“So does the soul ascend forever?”
“Perhaps it ascends, perhaps it transforms, perhaps it enters forms of existence for which you do not even possess the words to describe today. The journey of the soul and spirit is a progressive mystery.”
“And what must I do now?”
Orthon extended his hand toward him once again.
“Learn.”
“Again?”
“Always.”
Espoir smiled.
“Then death was not the end of a journey.”
“No.”
Espoir clasped Orthon’s hand, and Earth appeared very far away, beautiful yet wounded. A planet capable of producing some of the worst atrocities and, at the same time, some of the most sublime acts.
Espoir looked at it with a new awareness.
“Orthon.”
“Yes?”
“Will I be able to return one day?”
The Guide smiled.
“If your spirit reaches the necessary strength, you will be able to descend.”
“To help?”
“To help. Unless the planet soon evolves toward a higher dimension. Many have spoken, and continue to speak, of a New Golden Age.”
“Let us hope it happens as soon as possible. And can I return even to the lower dimensions?”
“It depends on whether your soul and spirit are capable of enduring them. It depends on the dimensions and their degree of evolution.”
“Without being afraid?”
“Fear will never be able to dwell within you again.”
Espoir turned toward him.
Orthon smiled.
“Espoir, on Earth, courage means above all choosing the Light even when the darkness seems greater.”
The young man remained silent for a few seconds.
Then he smiled.
“Anyway, I want to learn.”
Orthon began to walk.
“You will.”
The two slowly disappeared along the luminous path, while behind them the paradisiacal world continued to live in perfect harmony.
Much farther away, beyond that dimension, beyond those Espoir would come to know, and beyond those that Orthon himself had not yet crossed, the Universe continued to unfold.
Dimension after dimension, mystery after mystery, Light upon Light.
Meanwhile, somewhere, beyond all understanding, the Creator continued to contemplate the journey of His creatures, allowing every soul, every spirit, to follow its own path toward that perfection which no one, not even the most elevated beings, could yet completely comprehend.
Because perhaps Eternity does not consist in arriving, but in continuing to become.
