Not unnaturally, in this first family reunion Frederick’s messages were chiefly personal. Frequently, in pauses, he made enthusiastic little circles, as has been his custom from the first, and I asked him whether it was the circle of infinity, all-inclusive.
“Yes, partly. Put out all disturbing factors and all forces of disintegration, add more to eternity and infinity—and that is the circle.”
“Good night,” he said, a little later. “I’ll stay here to-night and as long as Margaret stays. You’ll talk often, won’t you?”
The next night, he began with a suggestion that the rest do the talking, adding: “I’ll listen and answer questions.” After some discussion of purpose, in its personal application, and inquiries concerning other members of the family on his plane, Mr. Wylie asked whether his grandfather could talk to him in this way.
“I can get him, I think, by to-morrow,” Frederick replied. “He’s sheltering a lot of poor, undeveloped wretches who have come out of conditions not making for fitness or growth. He teaches, and urges, and offers them opportunity, and is too busy and helpful to come away often.”
After this had been written, I was told that this man, during his earthly life, had devoted time and money to providing opportunity for others; never offering charity, but building roads that the unemployed might have work, exchanging some commodity needed by a poor man for some other of which he had enough and to spare, and always encouraging his less fortunate fellows to retain and develop their self-respect.
Of another on his plane, now a healer, Frederick said: “I haven’t seen him. Every healing force here, as with you, is occupied with war-stricken forces. They come so dazed, and sometimes terrified—and almost always startled, if they come from battle. And all our healing forces are required every minute.”
This reminded Mrs. Gaylord of an experience of her own, a few days before, when her pencil had written detached words, suggestive of battle. “Lost ... many lost ... another dead ... shot ...” etc. She asked whether this came from a friend, and was answered in the negative. To her inquiry, “Did you live here?” the reply was: “Near.” She asked for the name, and it was written clearly, “K——.” A few days later the name of Lieutenant K——, of a neighboring city, headed the American casualty list.
“K—— caught his one chance before his consciousness dimmed,” Frederick commented. “He is now too bewildered to talk. Just after what people who don’t know call death, there is a moment of singular clarity and vision. He happened to catch you in that moment.”