I didn’t hear her name, but she was an eight-year-old child from Honduras. I didn’t understand her native language, but an interpreter told me that she was praying for the people of the United States to follow the teachings of their own religions – the teachings that commanded them to love others as they love themselves.
Maybe what happened next was a coincidence or maybe it was serendipitous, but two weeks later the entire United States halted when what looked like mini bullet-shaped jets landed in fields everywhere.
Anyone who tried to attack the aliens was met with weapons the size of cocktail straws that instantly paralyzed their targets. While everyone stood impotent, the beings who emerged from those jets claimed the earth as their new home base, seizing property and children whose parents agreed with the separation policy of alienation from their parents.
As the paralyzed victims of substantial loss tried desperately to assess the situation, a voice permeated the crowds and caused everyone to assimilate her powerful vision and wisdom as she drew forth her weapon and insinuated herself into the souls of everyone around her. Her name was Conscience.