When we watch, from the beach, a sailboat moving away from the coast, sailing out to the sea, propelled by the morning breeze, we are before a spectacle of rare beauty.

The boat, driven by the strength of the winds, gains the blue sea and seems to us smaller and smaller.

It does not take long and we can only contemplate a small white spot on the remote and indecisive line, where the sea and the sky meet.

Anyone who watches the sailboat disappear on the horizon will certainly say: It is gone.

Is it gone? Has it evaporated?

No, it certainly has not. We just lost sight of it.

The boat remains the same size and with the same capacity as it had when it was close to us.

It remains as able as before, to take the received cargo to the destination port.

The sailboat has not evaporated, we just cannot see it anymore. But it remains the same.

And perhaps, just when someone says: It is gone, there will be other voices, beyond, saying: Here comes the sailboat.

So is death.

When the sailboat leaves, carrying the precious cargo of a love that was dear to us and we see it disappear in the line that separates the visible from the invisible, we say: It is gone.

Is it gone? Has it evaporated?

No, it certainly has not. We just lost sight of him.

The being we love remains the same. His mental capacity was not lost. His achievements remain intact, just as when he was at our side.

He retains the same affection he had for us. Nothing is lost except the physical body that is no longer needed on the other side.

And that it how, at the same moment we say: He is gone, in the Beyond, someone else will happily say: He is already coming.

He arrived at the destination taking with him the acquisitions made during the earth journey.

Life is never interrupted or offers spectacular changes, because nature does not make leaps.

Each one carries his own load of vices and virtues, of affection and disaffection, until he decides to discard what he judges unnecessary.

Life is made up of departures and arrivals. Coming and going.

Thus, for some it seems to be the departure, for others it is the arrival.

 One day we start from the spiritual world towards the physical world; in another, we leave here towards the spiritual, in a constant coming and going, as travelers of the Immortality that we all are.

 *   *   *

Victor Hugo, French poet and novelist, who lived in the 19th century, spoke of life and death saying:

Each time we die we gain more life. Souls move from one sphere to another without loss of personality, becoming brighter and brighter.

I am a soul. I know well that I will deliver to the grave what I am not.

When I go down to the grave, I will be able to say, like so many: my workday is over. But I cannot say: my life is over.

My workday will start again the next morning.

The tomb is not a dead end, it is a passage. It closes at dusk and the dawn comes to open it again.

 Spiritist Moment Team, with final thoughts of
Victor Marie Hugo, from the book  A
reencarnação através dos séculos, by Nair
Lacerda, publisher Pensamento.
May, 14.2020.