There are as many paths to unconditional love as there are people; there are as many twists and turns on those paths as there are moments in eternity. My path started with Christianity, but it did not stop there.

I was four, sitting in the sand in the back yard drawing a cross with three long stemmed flowers twirling up around it; it was my favorite thing to draw. The cross was not menacing; it was not sad; it was not death. In the Sunday school I attended, Jesus’ body never hung on the cross; the cross was “something he rose above.” In my innocence, or my wisdom, the cross was a happy thing.

I was drawing a cross with three long stemmed flowers crawling up when I “felt” someone smiling at me. I scooted around in the sand expecting to see Mommy, but no one was there, just a beautiful soft, yellow, pulsing light. I squinted to see who anybody, but I liked the light a lot; it was very happy.

Then suddenly I knew who it was. “Oh! You’re Jesus aren’t you? You’re in there aren’t you? Do you want to play in the sand with me?” I showed him what I was drawing. I felt his smile. He stayed for a little while and then slipped away. I grinned; He must be going to play with some other children he loves.

I finished my picture and went inside. Mom was washing breakfast dishes.

“Jesus is a very nice man, isn’t he Mommy?”

Without hesitation, she said, “Yes he is, Jeanne.”