[From the Chronicles of the Twelve Gates of Twenty-Six]
Dear 2026,
I truly do not know where to begin this letter. Nobody told me what the experiences of the past few weeks would do to me, so now I’m stuck between gratitude and apprehension. Gratitude for the experience; apprehension for what is to come.
Remember how excited I was at the end of my last letter? Oh well, that did not last very long. April arrived at Zebulun’s courtyard – a very stern-looking young man dressed in a terracotta shirt worn over charcoal trousers. He had a brief discussion with the elders of the courtyard, and they gave him some money. I saw all of this from my room. March came up to me just then, telling me it was time to go…
I was scared. Why would they give him money to take me? Was I that much of a burden, or was I being sold as a slave? However, I kept these thoughts to myself for fear of a harsher punishment, although I did not know what I was being punished for.
April was calm as we walked. We walked until we reached a buggy where a number of people who, like myself, were to follow April. They had patiently waited for us to arrive. At this point, I was certain I had been sold.
The buggy took us on a long ride until we reached a city that looked as though they had infused stone with steel while building it. The houses were low-slung and sprawling, made of reinforced concrete, rusted weathering steel (called Corten), and local basalt. They were very different from any houses I had stayed in so far. The architect had decided they needed massive platforms, so the platforms were almost as tall as the houses themselves. This made me question the architect.
They had horizon windows with floor-to-ceiling glass panes, and the aesthetic seemed very earthy in comparison to the other houses I had been to.
We alighted from the buggy and were led to a building with a large signpost that read: “DORMITORIES OF THE DAWN.” It was confirmed: I had been sold as a slave.
We were led to our rooms, and this was where the confusion began. What slaves had mini-libraries in their rooms, personal space all to themselves, and a beautiful view of the scenery from horizon windows? What was this place?
We were told to rest, take a bath, and put on the indigo mantle, and that we would be addressed by 8:00 PM. We did so; actually, we didn’t have a choice because the porters were at our doors to make sure we were on time. When the steward began to speak, it finally made sense. We were not slaves; we were students!
In this house, I have learned more than I could have predicted. These people are called “Interpreters of the First Pulse.” They see visions and are devoted to the legacy they must leave behind. I’ve learned discipline – what the Reubenites call the Watchtower Discipline. I’ve learned to plan: plan to be present, plan to learn, and plan to remember. I have learned patience, patience not just in expectation, cause that would just be plain hope, but patience to see things before they happen – that’s vision.
However, I’ve cried so much during this time. I’ve struggled and fought to get things done, and it has been hard. But nobody said change came easy; the change I’ve experienced, I’ve paid for with tears.
But then, I shed those fears, surrounded by people with the same foundation—people who have comforted me while keeping me grounded. This has been an overwhelming experience, and it wasn’t the easiest, but I wouldn’t change a thing.
I see visions now, 2026! I’m growing, and I’m ready to grow even more.
Here’s the link to the YouTube video for this blog piece
