Quoting the introduction of a TV series of earlier years, paraphrased, "The story you are about to read is basically true; the names have been changed to protect the innocent. And so following is the story, a true adventure of my life.
A brilliant white glow flashed across Toledo, Ohio's, blackened, starlit sky, then vanished into that blackness. Unknown to any earthling, however, it had landed in some remote, undeveloped valley on Toledo's outer limits. A whirring sound hummed softly from the glowing spherical shaped object shrouded by a light blue, misty fog. The sound lessened little by little to a still silence.
A brilliant white light illuminated a hospital delivery room. A smack on the buttocks and I bellowed out a loud cry. My first earthly sound was heard.
"It's a boy, Mrs. Smith!" exclaimed the elated doctor. I may have been his first delivery. "You have another son, with a good set of lungs too, I might add."
"And a good set of pipes," responded Mrs. Smith, delightfully, referring to my vocal cords. Little did she know then, however, that those "pipes" would be silenced as my years matured on planet Earth.
"What are you going to name him?" asked the doctor.
'Orville," Mrs. Smith answered. "Orville James."
I arrived on planet Earth in a country called America, the "home of the brave and the land of the free." A country to which all of Earth looked for help; all yearned to go there someday. And so I, too, on planet Earth, was an American. I was the last member of the family to arrive. There were three older siblings, a brother, a sister, and another brother.
I had no idea then what my arrival as an Earthling all meant. But gradually I learned it, partly, that I would become susceptible to everything human, as what the inhabitants of Earth were called. I would have to learn to take the bad with the good -- to taste of such earthly maladies as pain, anger, lust, greed, fear, discouragement, and death.
I was still quite young when the family migrated out of Toledo to a small rural village in northeastern Ohio. There we lived in the same house all of my years of formal learning. Those years were a period of shaping and molding -- a preparation stage for future decades.
As was the practice of many Earthlings, and to some purely habitual, so too my family worshiped Elohim every Sunday -- that being the first day of Earth's weeks. There I was to learn about this Elohim -- Earth's Creator, and of all the universe -- and about my Pattern for life and of His Kingdom He wished to establish on Earth in a unique way: in the lives of individuals. For you see, as I have learned, it was His idea that by coming into each individual's life -- a person's total being -- that all of humanity on planet Earth would be transformed into His likeness. Yet I don't recall of ever really hearing about it during my early existence on Earth. Simply, I only recall hearing the familiar stories of His own life when He came to Earth some 2000 years earlier, but nothing more.
What I do remember most vividly are talks, during those Sunday church meetings, that time would one day be no more, and planet Earth, too, and all that's in it, would one day be destroyed. Ah, how mind-boggling. I could not understand that. My young, earthly imagination would not let me consider the end of time or of Earth. What was I to do? Where was I to go? Why was I even here?
As time past I found myself going the way of all Earthlings -- getting caught up in Earth's "timely" activities, concerned only with life's "temporal" and human values. (But why not? I was a creature or time. I had no concept of anything beyond time.) Later I would reconsider such things and learn of my real purpose for my life on planet Earth. But for now, I was content with the ups and downs of life as an Earthling.
Play Turned to Pain
Whether I was laughing or screaming I don't recall. I hadn't been on planet Earth six years yet. But I do remember of running through my residence one day, from back to front, being chased by my older brother. It was all in fun though. But the fun soon ceased, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, when I arrived at the front door in which was a pane of glass.
Suddenly, the glass punctured and shattered everywhere as my right fist pierced its surface. The air, too, shattered with my loud scream. Surely the entire village must have heard me. Blood poured out like a fountain from my wrist. Fortunately, my mother was right there talking with another woman from the village when it happened. My obviously more pressing need interrupted their conversation.
Having gotten the bleeding stopped, they then rushed me to a physician. His stitchings in my wrist and the wrappings around it made it feel so much better. I returned home happy, constantly eyeing that wrapped wrist. Possibly that experience could have been curtains for me then, and my life on planet Earth snuffed out. But I still had much to learn, more pain, more trials, and my purpose for being here in the first place to be discovered. But most importantly to meet my life's Pattern.
(Another day and another stumble I recall: injuring my left knee. Whether it was before or after the wrist piercing I don't recall. Nevertheless, in rushing through some tall grass and weeds in a field not too far from my Earth's residence, I fell upon a broken glass; rolling up my pant leg I gawked at my punctured knee an inch or so deep. Amazed so that there was not much bleeding. Another trip to the physician, the knee stitched and bandaged; I then walked a little carefully through any tall weeds.)
My Earthling education began at the age of six years. Ordinarily, all child Earthlings started school at that age, some even earlier. School for me was almost a breeze. I sailed through it all the way to my ninth year. It was then I came up against a strong headwind which rebuffed me and caused me to repeat that year. What happened exactly that caused me to repeat that ninth grade school year experience was not then as apparent to me as I'd learned in later years. It can only be explained by recalling my earlier years -- those prior eight years of my earthly existence.
© 2018 Charles O Newcombe