The Hour of Our Heaven

Has a short philosophical novel ever changed the way you view life?

This is one such book.

Why? I was there to witness my mum, a believing Catholic, on her dying bed having a transformation.

Her body was limp, her voice a wisp but then she saw something.

Her eyes glistened as she stared ahead at something awesome at the foot of the bed. I supposed The Light.

She seemed to find this light inviting or inspiring, because she feebly lifted back the bed-clothes and gently turned her hand towards it breathing, “JESUS,” wanting to go.

I began to wonder what other people would see in that most final of moments. Nobody was willing to discuss the concept with me so I slipped into the shoes of others, began to write and it snowballed from a village to a city to a planet.

The tale stems from the supposition that Heaven exists and that the paradise we see at the hour of our death is the fruit of our earthly conditioning combining with our vast subconscious. At a quirky pace, the tale offers romance and religion, sex and confrontation, exuberance and despair, while opening the curtains to the many cultures in our world.

The subject is ripe, juicy and nourishing for our epoch. The time has come for it to soothe, entertain and fascinate both the emotions and the mind.

The Hour of our Heaven
by Maria D’Arcy.

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