It was Easter Eve, the bells of Heaven were ringing for the great feast. St. Peter came to Smith, and said to him, “As you are aware, Smith, to-morrow we fête the Lord’s Resurrection. On this occasion, the heavenly host goes forth in procession. All the saints and all the elect take part. I know you are very strong. Will you carry the large flag and walk at the head of the procession? You will go out by the principal gate, mount the fortifications, and continue straight ahead to the end of the Milk-and-Honey Avenue. Directly you hear the sound of the cannon, you will turn round. Every one in the procession will do the same, and, retracing their steps, re-enter Heaven.”
“Dear me,” thought Smith, “that may be my opportunity for returning to earth.” He placed himself in St. Peter’s hands and promised to do his best.
Easter dawned, High Mass was over, and the procession set forth. Right in front walked our Smith bearing the flag, then followed a countless host of cherubim, seraphim, and other angels led by St. Michael, seated on the flaming horse which drew Elisha’s chariot; then dressed in glittering armour, all mounted on flaming chargers, St. Martin, St. George, St. Victor, St. Maurice, St. Sebastian. All these had been warriors on earth. Then came the martyrs, confessors, hermits, and pilgrims—more than tongue could number; then followed the Blessed Virgin surrounded by seraphim; and, lastly, Our Lord Himself clothed in papal robes, under a golden canopy.
Smith did exactly as he was told; he went out by the Great Gate, mounted the fortifications of Heaven. He walked with great dignity and with measured tread until he reached the Milk-and-Honey Avenue. Then suddenly, “boom” the canon sounded, and was answered by all the echoes of Heaven. Smith turned round, all the procession did likewise and re-entered Paradise. When our standard-bearer found he was the last before the gate, he signed to an angel in front of him and begged him to hold the flag for a moment; he then turned round and disappeared to the left.
Milk-and-Honey Avenue
In a few hours he found himself on earth once more before the door of his smithy.
No one in Heaven grieved at his departure. Smith recommenced his happy life on earth, and from the words of the song which is still sung by Flemish children, one may conclude he is still alive.
Smith Verholen, Smith Verholen,
For seven years received wood and coal,
Iron, lead and copper,
From the devil Lucifer.
Smith Verholen may burn, may be knocked on the head,
But Smith Verholen is never dead.
