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Matthew

In August 2016, my husband, Robert, and I stayed in a one-hundred-year-old cabin near Beulah, Colorado. This was an interesting cabin. It had an electric stove and some dim lights, but no running water or bathroom. It was essentially camping with a bed, roof, and stove.

My aunt, Tina, had used an ancestor website to do some research on our ancestors on my paternal grandmother’s side of the family.

We were all surprised to learn that my great great grandmother, Lena, was full-blooded German. She came over to the United States with her siblings and mother, seemingly leaving the rest of her family back in Germany.

Upon arriving here she met an American man, married and had five children. Unfortunately, her husband left her for another woman and she died at the age of 47 while some of her children were still growing up.

What made this interesting was that Tina learned Lena’s grave was in Beulah. How Lena came all the way to Beulah, a tiny town even now, back in her time frame was a mystery. I wanted to visit her grave to see if she would appear and I could ask her questions. I wasn’t expecting another visitor…or two…or three.

To this day after that experience, I’m not so sure I want to visit graveyards anymore.

The town graveyard was decent. It was obvious the older headstones were not maintained and the newer ones were. Except for Lena’s grave. Her grave had many lilies planted in a circle around her grave. No one else’s older grave had flowers.

There were many unmarked graves as well, but Lena’s was well marked.We did notice a large hunting knife stabbed into the ground near her grave. A bit creepy?

I was visiting her grave with Robert and my family. Lena did not show up, but we walked around reading other headstones, enjoying a warm summer afternoon.

In our cabin, early morning (around 3am), I woke up and saw a male child standing at the foot of the bed. I acknowledged his presence and fell back to sleep. A few hours later, upon fully waking up, I heard, “Matthew, Matthew, Matthew.”

I’m betting that is his name. I should go back to the cemetery and see if I find his headstone.

Later in the day, walking the cemetery for a headstone with the name Matthew, I saw the same little boy’s spirit standing ahead and away from me.

“Matthew, show me your headstone.”

He pointed along one row. I walked to him where he remained and then he led me to one spot.

“But it’s not marked…let me keep walking and see if a Matthew shows up on a stone.”

I walked around more, never ONCE seeing a Matthew written anywhere. I found this strange since it’s a common name.

I looked back to the original spot and he was still standing there waiting patiently for me.

After walking back, I put my hand on the grave to feel the energy and allow it to form images in my mind. I figured I would see a child who was sick and poor perhaps. Too poor for his name to be etched into stone.

That’s not what I saw.

I was shown Matthew being grabbed by two large men. They were dragging him and he was screaming for help. He was wearing a stripped shirt and jeans. He had brown/auburn hair that needed a trim. He looked a tad dirty and getting more dirty as he was being dragged by these two seemingly angry men.

I knew they were going to murder him and I stopped watching.

“I’m so sorry Matthew…I’m sorry. You don’t have to be in pain anymore. There’s help…you always have help.”

His energy started shifting after he was able to tell someone about his murder. I asked him to stand next to his headstone and I took his picture with my phone.

I continued back to Lena’s grave and this time she was there. She expressed her anger and resentment. I could understand she was angry, but it became obvious she had not fully crossed over. I would continue to work with her especially after learning she is my spirit aspect.

I am my great great grandmother.

That night at dinner, I showed my father the picture I took.

“What do you see aside from a headstone?”

He focused on the photo and said, “There’s a boy there.”

“Matthew, he was murdered. I think he’s moving on now.”

That last night in the cabin more nonphysicals came to tell me how they were murdered. The picture they showed was death by drowning in some small body of water. It almost looked like a Baptism from long time ago. They were angry too….

The cabin itself wasn’t haunted, but the cemetery was! I later learned a nonphysical male followed me home…an angry male who was angry with Lena and wanted to take it out on me.

The next time you visit a cemetery, check your car for any folks who decided to hitch a ride with you…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Shadows

“And the girl I saw in my bedroom? The one with dirty clothes and spooky eyes?”

“Shadows are overtaking her.”

A month prior, I had woken up around the 3 a.m. and saw a teenage girl standing in front of my bed. She had dark hair and eyes that looked haunted. She appeared to be in great emotional and mental pain.

I shook my head. What do I do with this?

I didn’t know and so I stopped. I stopped listening and stopped engaging or acknowledging. At the time, I justified my choice. Since I was seemingly limited in what information I could gain, I should stop and wait. But this was a mistake.

After I stopped listening I temporarily forgot what I needed to do. As a result, I began picking up on the deceased’s emotions. I was feeling their frustration and sadness for the most part.

The Child’s Mother

 

PART TWO OF THEY TOOK US

That next weekend, in the early morning hours on the first Sunday in spring, I woke up and felt a deceased woman roaming the house. Who was this? What did she want? I tossed and turned as I felt the woman continuing to roam the house.

It’s her. The mother of the little girl who was taken by the Gestapo.

I felt her presence closer as I acknowledged this information and I recognized who she was.

I promise first thing later when I wake up, I’ll listen. I promise.

I fell back asleep and at 6am, I quickly grabbed a cup of coffee and headed to my desk and computer.

“They made me give her away. I didn’t want to. They said it would be safer for everyone. I became a worker to hide myself too. I wanted to keep a low profile,” she spoke immediately.

“Then what happened?”

“I was found in three years. I was ashamed of what I did.”

“You were ashamed of giving away your daughter?”

“They told me she would be alright. That she would be safe.”

“But you died before she was found?”

“No, I didn’t…I was found. By the Czech police.”

“Then what happened?”

“They burned me.”

“When?”

“I lost track of time, but I heard about my daughter.”

She showed me an image of being passed a note while she was in what appeared to be a concentration camp.

“So this is why you need to find your daughter?”

“Yes, I need to know she survived.”

“What do you mean survived?”

“That they didn’t take her with them. The Nazis.”

“I’m confused. Again.”

“I heard stories where they took their spirits.”

The Speaker walked in with the little girl right then.

“Mommy!”

“How would she know it’s her mother?” I asked the Speaker.

“Photographs.”

“Thank you…” the mother said.

She held her daughter tight and began to carry her out. They did not hold hands; they held each other so tight as to never let go.

“Go in peace,” the Speaker said to the mother.

Both the little girl and mother walked into a light and moved on.

The Speaker started giving me information.

“You need to have a clear mind and be prepared for what’s coming.”

“When? So I can prepare.”

“Prepare now and they shall arrive.”

I remembered what I’d been told by a wise teacher some years ago: “Preparation is a state of mind.”

Reflecting on the previous information from Monika and then later her mother, I wanted to make the connections. Monika said she was Polish and Jewish. It sounded like the mother said the Czech police found her.

History shows many Jews fled to Czechoslovakia and Germany later invaded. Though the country resisted Hitler’s invasion, there were probably police siding with the Nazis or forced to side with them.

I searched online for any references to any Jewish folk stories around spirits being taken by dark-minded people. I couldn’t find anything at all. So I emailed a person I knew who was Jewish and her reply made sense to me.

My mom heard of stories in the Orthodox tradition, that when someone dies, there are different Rabbis that sit over the body for 24 hours to make sure that no negative entities enter the body to take their soul.  Otherwise, it is taught that negative entities can interfere with the soul going into the Light.

Onward and Forward!