Monday, November 02, 2009
Pharon and I were recently invited by a friend, Krisa, to spent a few days at her cabin on Lake Champlain in Vermont. This was just before the Fall colors were in full brightness and it was a special treat to get away. Krisa attended a workshop in Salt Lake City several years ago as an attempt to learn how to contact her son who died unexpectedly at the age of thirteen. I'm happy to say her attempt back then was successful and after the workshop Krisa continued to practice the techniques she learned. That began regular conversations with her son in a continuing relationship that is still active today.
During our minivacation to Vermont Krisa introduced us to the surrounding area. We picked quarts of fresh rasberries and made sugar free jam Pharon that we now have several jars of at home here in Florida. We learned a new card game and sat for hours feeding the wood stove and playing cards.
On one of our outtings to Burlington we happened to drive past a building constructed as an orphanage in the 1800s. Krisa was familiar with some of the history of the orphange (not all of it pretty) and was curious to know if there might be anyone 'stuck' there. Later, driving back the way we came we turned into the old orphanage parking lot and slowly drove around to the back of the building. We stopped at a big parking lot and I gazed out the window of the car without any particular thought in mind.
Suddenly a childrens playground came into my mind's eye and I realized that back somewhere in the history of this place what was now a paved parking lot for cars had been a playground. Images of children running and playing formed in my mind and my attention was drawn to two little girls who were jumping rope together about twenty feet from the car. One of the two, the older one, perhaps eight or ten, looked my way and our eyes met. I could tell that the longer I looked into her eyes the more she became convinced that I could see her. She walked toward the car, never breaking her gaze, and when she stopped with her face a foot or two from me I smiled, just to let her know that I could see her and that I was friendly. What happened next is something I have never seen before.
Off to my left, about twenty feet away a brilliant white-bluish light starting shining. Within moments the light transformed iinto an arch-topped structure the size of a big door that looked like the kind of garden trelils you sometimes see used in outdoor weddings. The entire structure was made of bright, shining white light and the was a sign in big letters above this doorway structure. The sign said only one word, "HOME." I realized that Helpers had been waiting for the opportunity to retrieve kids from the orphanage and were ready to create the doorway at a moments notice. Our "chance" stop behind the building had given them the opportunity.
I look over at this doorway structure and back to the eyes of the little girl. Then did it again while sending her the thought, "Look where I am looking." It took a couple of tries but she finally looked at the doorway. She looked back into my eyes with the thought, "Is it true? Is that the way I go to find my home?" I smiled and nodded yes. She turned toward the doorway and walked toward it, stopped, turned back and looked at me again, she smiled and then she stepped through the door and disappeared.
Other children continued to play as they had been doing when I arrived. A few saw the bright doorway and the sign over it. Some of those walked toward it, curious about what it was. A few of those were brave enough to step through to doorway. Tears were streaming down my face as I watched.
We drove a little further toward the back corner of the building and stopped again when I "saw" a small group of boys ages five to ten or twelve. Two of the older boys had somehow gotten cigarettes and were smoking where they thought no one could see them. When they realized I was watching them they ran off in different directions and I sent them all the thought that it was okay and I wouldn't tell the Nuns, and that they should go to the playground and see the new thring that was there, along with sending an image of the doorway.
Later that evening, back at the cabin, I closed my eyes and shifted my attention back to the orphanage playground to see how things were going. Helpers guided me to a little synopsis story of what happened to the little girl after she stepped through the doorway. She was greeted by two adults who told her they were her parents and she was welcomed into her new home. It was a happy, joyful time. After settlling in a little the girl decided she wanted to go back to the playground with her parents and talk to other kids to tell them they could step through the doorway and go home with their parents. Some kids she took by the hand and then she and her parents walked them through the doorway. They were all met by their "parents."
Checking in on the situation a few times each day for the next couple of days I found fewer and fewer children still stuck there. Kids who had already left and joined their parents were coming back with their parents and going into the building to retrieve other kids who were stuck inside the building.
Near the end Krisa joined me and she encountered two of the nuns who had worked at the orpanage. The younger of these two seemed to be a good-hearted soul, the older was a rather gnarly woman who enjoyed the power of her position a little too much. Krisa retrieved them both.
It never ceases to amaze me that there are so many ways that retrievals happen.