A True Story

 

 

A True Story..

Many years ago, I was privileged to sit as a guest in a physical phenomena circle. Of a renowned physical Medium. Where upon I witnessed the materialization of the Spirit Form, from the world of Spirit.

 I was privileged to shake hands with a man named Walter Stewart Stinson who was the spirit helper of the Medium. He had been in the world of spirit at that time for just over 80 years..He had died in 1911 in a railway accident.. His hand was warm and full of life, his grip was firm and strong, and as solid as any handshake I had experienced upon the Earth plane.

Walter spoke in the broad drawl of his American Boston accent and was full of charm, and he definitely had an eye for the ladies when alive, and he hadn’t changed as he paid the ladies in the circle his compliments.

I had sat in various circles of physical phenomena witnessing various manifestations from spirit hands being formed from ectoplasm, to hearing the crackling of an old gent’s voice as he projected his voice box into ectoplasm contained within a trumpet shaped device to enable him to speak directly to his grieving daughter . Such has been my experiences as a Spiritual Medium. As well as linking with my own guides to deliver messages from the Spirit world to enable their love ones move on or to help see them through their earthy problems.

And now I have come full circle, and for several years I have run my own Spiritual Development/Awareness circle, helping to bring out those gifts that lay dormant in many of us, helping those who wish to develop these gifts, by training them how to reach out to the Spirit world that many upon our Earth plane still doubt the existence of, and yet whom all wish to go heaven when they die.

I wish to tell you a story of a young woman… A girl called Jane.. Jane came to talk to our group.. Jane was dead.. But came to talk to us via me, as I went into a Trance state… She was also seen in an overshadowing and sketched by our Artist Medium in our group.

I want to tell you a story of Jane’s Heaven..And a Story she told to us.

 

 Jane was a young girl who when alive lived in Wales in the U.K. She came and spoke with the soft lilt of the Welsh accent and first introduced herself to the group with a beautiful singing voice. She told us of a place of beauty where she resided now in the spirit kingdom and of her life when on the Earth plane.

She spoke of the period of time she lived with long dresses and bonnets, her father was a pastor they lived in a rundown rectory with leaking roof, she spoke of the poor of that time, and how she would go out with her mother with baskets of food and try to help those in their parish. She told us of how her Mother had got sick and passed over, and how she was scared of her father who was a man of God, but whose ‘wrath’ he preached and feared.

Jane told us the day when she too became ill and passed at a young age, she never married, and how she joined her mother in the Spirit realm.. She described the cottage that her mother lived in on the spirit realm, she said that her mother had built that cottage, by her love and deeds, the group were told how beautiful it was, an how her Mother had now moved on to higher level, but she still came to visit her.

Jane was asked by the group members of my circle, what she did to pass the time in the spirit realm, She told us of her tutor, and how she was learning all the time, she told us that she helped to make the flowers bloom..

Jane described how in the spirit realm where she resided there was no decay as on the Earth, she said the flowers were a creation of love. And that the colours were so beautiful and different from those upon Earth. And went on to say how she tended the flowers in peoples gardens, helping them bloom, she said she sang to them and loved them and in return the flowers opened their blossoms responding to the vibrations she and others gave them. And they would change their colours according to mood and surroundings.

She was also chosen with others to go down the valley as she described it.. For she reminded us that ‘In our Fathers House are many mansions’.. [many levels] and each of us reside at the level we have attained for ourselves. For Like attracts like.

Jane told us of a time she and her tutor and friends went down the valley into the ‘Mists’ where those souls who were not happy lived.. In this place it was cold, and dank. People were suspicious of each other, and their dwellings reflected the conditions of their hearts and minds.They were sparse hovels, with no furnishings. They were grey and damp shacks, and people would fear, be full of anger, bitterness and hatred of one another.

It was part of her job, to seek out those who wished to change their ways, who showed remorse, or who asked for help, and it was her job to help them back up the valley into the light and love of the place where she resided upon her level of existence.

Jane spoke of an old gent, whose home was a hovel, she said he was a very lonely Grumpy old man, and he were full of bitterness. When he was alive he would shout at the children on his street, telling them to clear off, he wouldn’t spend his money, and would hoard his things, and he hated his life. But most of all she said he was just lonely. His dwelling place he had built for himself reflected this. For Jane said that we each built our own piece of heaven, with the things we bring with us.. All the grumpy old man had brought with him were sadness and bitterness, emptiness and hate. So his surroundings reflected his heart and Soul.

Jane told the group that over a period of time she gained the old man’s trust, and  as he started to like Jane so his heart expanded too, he came further out of the mist, His dwelling place began to improve, he noticed that he now had furnishings within his cottage, until the day came he moved from the misty place at the bottom of the valley and he emerged to live in his own beautiful cottage, surrounded by flowers and meadows and orchards.

 The group laughed as they were told he sometimes still wished he was still deaf, as Jane sang her songs to him. But he now could see how his bitterness and hate, had twisted his thoughts and so coloured his surroundings.

 

We were taught that day, that when we take our final journey, we cannot pack our suitcase full of our possessions, we take not our houses, cars jewellery or money.. It matters not what we have gained in power or privileged life style..

What we take with us simply is what we have within our hearts.. our love, our compassion, or our hate or bitterness.

What have you got packed in your suitcase, for your final journey?

 

 

Dreamwalker.