I took Mr Swedenborg’s right hand and strolled to the Judgement Hall. We walked through an enormous gate. The Judgment Hall was mammoth.

I looked around, asking, “Mr Swedenborg, there are many kinds of people in this hall. They dress and look differently. Where are they from?”

Smiling, Mr Swedenborg said, “Everyone who dies comes to the arrival plane to speak with angels who look like people from their tribe or country. They speak different languages and have diverse costumes. Still, everyone is processed in the hall.

“And God designs heavens and hells consistent with tribal beliefs.
            “God must be super smart, Mr Swedenborg.”

“That he is, dear boy.”

Looking around, Mr Swedenborg saw two elderly nuns sitting on an uncrowded bench.

“Look, Michael, I see a good place to sit without crowding. They are lovely ladies; I imagine they have some candy for you. They are proper Sisters. They spent their lives running an orphanage for lost boys and girls. God is fond of them.”

We walked up to the nuns, and Mr Swedenborg introduced himself and me. He sat me between the nuns and sat on the left side of us.

One nun said, “Brother Emanuel, we studied your books and teachings in school. Sister and I are delighted to meet you in person. You are the perfect person to greet new arrivals who want to make up for their sins on Earth by serving angels in Heaven. Sadly, most sinful people don’t care about their brothers and sisters.”

The other nun reached into a pocket and found some candy for me. After I finished the piece, the other nun said to me.

She said, “Michael, you are a brave boy. Do you know this? I can see you are very sleepy. Come, lay your head in my lap and rest. Mr Swedenborg will wake you later. Don’t worry. We will be here a long time.”

I fell asleep and visited with some angels in my dreams. They showed me how friendly Heaven was.

Mr Swedenborg woke me up.

“Michael, I want you to observe how God judges people.”

So, I saw what was going on. I noticed God was sitting behind a bench, and there were two tables in front of his bench. The person sat to God’s left at his or her bench. At God’s right was an angel who was to recite the significant events in each person’s life, which showed up on a giant screen (shades of TV).

When the life-reviewing Angel finished, God looked kindly at the person and asked them where they wanted to spend eternity. After they told God what they wanted for an afterlife, God granted their wish.

Having lived an altruistic and generous life, these people chose a lifestyle congruent with their earthly life. They were directed to a door on God’s right. Those who lived a mean life and loved egoistical and greedy things went through the door to God’s left. And each seemed thrilled with their decision, as they got exactly what they wanted, thanking God as they left.

I asked, “Mr Swedenborg, why do some people choose the right door and others the left door. I see there are two kinds of people. Nice and not nice?”

“Michael, the nice people go to heaven and the not nice to hell.”

Occasionally, a person following the review of their mortal lives told God they were genuinely sorry for not living with more altruism and generosity. They asked them for a second chance to do better. God told them about Purgatory, a special place to do community service in Heaven. You will compensate for your errors and learn so many valuable things. And it is much better than choosing Heaven or Hell. Each requester smiled and thanked God for granting their sincere wish. Then, they left with a Purgatory Angel.        

A few people recognised God and asked for a break from incarnation to learn more wholesome and valuable skills for the next life.

God would say, “I am delighted how you lived your life, my child. Your wish to continue in the Holy School is granted.”

Such students just disappeared.

Eventually, I heard my name called, and Mr Swedenborg and I walked up to the correct bench and sat down. The life-reviewing Angel looked at me funny as if she had never seen a three-year-old in the Hall. I raised my hand.

God said, “Michael, you have a question?”

I stood up, saying, “Hello, Mr God. I hope you are well. I don’t know why I am here as I am only three years old and have done nothing bad or good. I told Mr Naten-el this, and he said I had to talk to you, anyway. I didn’t see any other children in the Hall. May I ask you another question, please?”

God laughed, smiling, “Of course, lad, you may ask me all the questions you want to. We have nothing but time.”

#

I began, “Mr Swedenborg and I sat with two nice elderly ladies. I think they loved you very much. I saw many people come for judgment. But I do not understand why this place is called the Judgment Hall since you just let people go to the place they liked the best.”

God looked down at me with sparkling eyes, saying, “You are right, my lad. I judge no one, for I love everyone. The people here think they must be judged, so we have a pretend trial to make them happy with their choices. You are a bright little boy, Michael. Is there anything you would like from me?”

I had to think about this, for I did not want to ask for something stupid.       

Mr Swedenborg said, “It’s okay, Michael. Tell God what your heart of hearts wants.”

“I was wondering if maybe you could use a helper? Mr God, you must have a challenging job watching over the entire universe. I am not big and need to learn many more things, but I don’t tell lies, and I try not to cause any trouble for anyone . . . and I eat vegetables. If you helped me, I would be a good helper, I am sure.”

Then, God stood up, went to the front of his bench, and stood beside me.

“So, Michael, you want to be my helper, really? No one has asked to be my helper for such a long time. But it is an excellent idea, and I think it might just work. What do you think, Emanuel?”

Mr Swedenborg said, “I think you two should shake hands and make a deal.”

God extended his right hand, and we shook on the deal.

I said, “Thanks, Mr God. I will be a good helper, but don’t I need to attend helper school?”

God said, “I will send you back to Earth so you can live another long life and help me. I have sent you to Earth many times, Ezer-el, but you cannot remember because you get a new vehicle that needs to remember. But don’t worry, I will ensure the angels teach you many good things and make you a strong helper. But you need to learn how to be a warrior as well.

I smiled, “Mr God, I am really an Angel?”

Smiling, God replied, “Not only are you an ancient Angel, but you always help me create new universes. And you want my Plan to work, so you always volunteer to be my helper on Earth. With every new incarnation, I bring you back here to remind you that you are my Ezer-el. This is a Hebrew name, and it means Helper of God.”

A beautiful lady approached me, saying, “I am Bitya, the daughter of God. My familiar name is Ari-el. I birthed you and your sister so many universes ago. You and I must heal her broken heart. She is on Earth and suffers so much that it makes me cry. You love her, too, as she is your eternal mate. You will meet her soon.

“My little Viking warrior. I will return you to your bedroom and watch over you. You will have many fights, but I will teach you all you need. But never let your heart grow cold or mean. Promise?”

And I promised Ariel I would love my sister and help her. I would always be a good Viking, fight fairly, and care for people who were afraid, hurt, or crying. And the next thing I knew, it was time to get up in the morning. It was more than a dream. I am sure. And I am glad I am a friendly Viking.