Alba's Story....a sort of beginning....

Ever since she could remember, she could remember everything. A little like the way you watch a movie and hear the words and see the images and know where it all leads, except you get the smells and tastes and the way things feel on your feet, your face, your hands, your head, your heart and stomach. She could put it all together, too, in a way, but in the beginning it was in the way that only a child can make connections. Of course, later on and still equipped with all those rememberings, the connections got more developed and less pure.
Alba, we'll call her, came into being with lifetimes already lived before. From the moment she took her first breath and opened her eyes, there was no fright, no confusion. Only inquiry. She opened her eyes, made no sound, and looked around as if saying, what the hell have I gotten myself into now?
She didn't cry, didn't yell, didn't make too much of an attempt to assert herself into the life she was given. Many questions she asked, and most were answered, as she had parents who nurtured her spirit and saw her gifts. They taught her the names of flowers, of plants, of words. When she was one year young, they took her on a picnic, and she still remembers the blanket, the field on which the blanket was spread, and the knife that they used to cut thier picnic lunch with.
Then she had a sister, when she was almost two. Except the sister was not the same as Alba. The sister was born with a perfect body, but most of her brain was only water. Perhaps it happened that Alba took so much in her own creation, there was little left for the next one. Her sister, Angel, was always sick. It was not known whether she could feel pain, physical or otherwise. But Alba loved her and did not ever consider that she was in any way with flaw. One Easter morning, she tried to share her Easter candy with Angel, feeding her one of those over-sized jelly beans kids always get, and then Angel had to go to the hospital.
To this day, she remembers the agony of how it felt to do something out of love, and to cause suffering instead. This guilt haunts her secret core.
Alba and Angel shared a room together, and one night, Alba woke inexplicably. She checked on Angel, and Angel was cold. She ran to her parents, and told them in a panic, "Angel is so cold!"
That was the night that Angel died. It was All Saint's Day, the day that is said to commemorate all those who have attained the eternal and direct perception of God, imparting supreme happiness and blessedness, enjoyed by those who are in Heaven. An Angel called directly back to whence she came, in a way only a higher power can conceive. She was one year old, plus a month or two.