Finding faith on a Saturday morning (4)

There are some things in this world that are not meant to be understood. It is only human nature for us to want to rationalize everything. Some things are meant for us to simply ponder about. And other things are kept to only have room for faith.
I remember sitting in the living room one brightly lit Saturday morning with my grandmother, (she had to have been on her third cup of coffee by the time I woke up) and I sipped on English breakfast tea. Her ritual every morning was in prayer. As we sipped away and she talked and I listened in a spiritual sense, I always felt that peace. And that peace manifested into something more.

My eyes locked onto an empty space of the wall across the living room. Suddenly, it was like somebody was slowly lifting a shade and behind that shade was the light of the sun and as this beacon of light shone, I saw two women figures that seemed to be in motion. I saw the swish of their long dresses and they were carrying each a huge jar of some sort on their shoulders. I could tell these women were working. These two women might've been carrying jugs of water for their families or holding food or clothing. That I am not quite sure about. In my heart, I knew these women were going about their daily tasks, their daily morning rituals. It was truly amazing to witness, even as I think back on it now. I was able to take a glimpse of history. The past that was brought right before my eyes. Or is it not the past? Could what we perceive as history be happening now as I write? Just a thought.

In the moment of gazing at these women, I felt in my heart, again, that they were trying to tell me something more. They have a story and their story is unfolding right before my eyes. These women were not only physically fit, but they were happy, spiritually strong with kind hearts, despite the seemingly mundane repetition of working day in and day out to care for their families.
I pointed at the image to show my grandmother and said,
"Dontcha see that!" More as an expression rather than a question, but very quickly after I had said that the image of the women had vanished. And then it was back to being a plain wall. My grandmother did not see what I had seen. Something not of this world, but had once left its footprints. Seeing the image had given me peace.
I cannot understand why I saw such an image or an image at all for that matter?

For weeks afterwards I pondered and even years later to this day, I do not know why I experienced such a beautiful and peaceful moment, a simple moment of the past. I realize now that sometimes we are allowed to witness what the human mind cannot decipher, but your heart tells you to have faith.