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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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The Girl in the Corner

Sitting in the family room while dinner was cooking, I noticed an energy near a corner. The energy was tall like a grown person. I could feel it was a young woman and she was very sad and angry.

“They took me for their own purposes. They promised me my mother. They said if I go, I’ll see her.”

“Did you see her?”

“No.”

“They took parts of me. They violated me.”

“What year is it?”

“It’s 1942.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m sixteen.”

“Who took you?”

“The men. I tried to run.”

“Where?”

“Out in the woods. They had dogs and snakes everywhere.”

Snakes?

In the image she showed me there were many snakes around.

“Why did they take your mother?”

“I don’t know, they said she had information.”

“Did she work for the military?”

“No. She did work for the government. She had a secure job.”

“What does secure job mean?”

“She had clearance.”

“What did they do, how did you die?”

“When I tried to run, they caught me. They put me in a cage. I couldn’t see out.”

She showed me an image of adults putting a cloth bag over her head.

I began wondering where they took her when she answered my question.

“I don’t know where they took me. They tied me up. I don’t know for how long.”

She showed me an image of being gagged and considered useless at this point.

She realized they had already killed her mother.

“I don’t know what they wanted to do with me.”

She showed me an image of how she died and shortly after she died (Details in Silent Whispers).

“Have you seen your mother?”

“No.”

“This really bothers me. I hope someone is here to help you move into the light…”

I was feeling a heaviness I wasn’t expecting to feel that night. I ached for her and the pain she endured. I knew she would receive assistance in the light, but in the moment, I just wanted to cry, especially after she showed me how they killed her.

The Speaker arrived and assisted her to move on.

Later, I wondered if this was a preview to our next destination, a destination with individuals who will share stories of torture, abduction, and pain. But most important those who are in pain will receive guidance and assistance to move on as this girl did.

Help Who?

“There will be one who will come to you who needs help,” Nicky Boy said.

Nicky Boy!

I had met Nicky Boy in the late fall of 2014. I woke up one morning, turned in bed, and saw a nonphysical man laying on my bed in his dapper clothing from a different era. The era he is from is the 1930’s and 1940’s. He had on his nice suit, leather shoes, and of course…a cigar. I asked him who he was and he said, “Nicky Boy.”

That’s an odd name…and he really likes his shoes.

After coming to know his personality and his enjoyment of his cigars, gambling, and socializing, the nickname made sense. From time to time he comes around to offer his advice and ask me to help someone, he knows, who is trapped in pain.

“He needs guidance to the light and he can’t see me. Do not be disturbed by what you see. You’ll know who it is when you see him,” he added.

This had happened before. I told Nicky Boy I would help his friend whenever he arrived.

A few weeks later, just upon slowly waking up, I felt some droplets of water on my arm that was sticking out of the covers. I looked up and was surprised at what I saw. I quickly sat up against the headboard.

Good grief, what happened to you?!

I saw a wide-shouldered man standing in front of me. He had dark hair, but most importantly he was wet, blind, and dressed in clothing that seemed from many ages ago.

He didn’t communicate with me, he didn’t even seem to see me there…at least at first.

“Aarrragggghhhhh!!!!”

What the hell was that? Why is he screaming like an animal?

I just sat there waiting to see if he could recognize my presence. It was obvious he was carrying immense trauma from another time…for a very very long time.

He backed up towards the wall even though I hadn’t moved. I didn’t get the sense he spoke English, but I knew I would understand whatever he conveyed.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

He communicated at first in pictures. He presented the image of being on a ship from very long time ago. He was whipped and blinded in the form of torture. They tied him up and dropped him into the ocean. Even though this appeared to be more than a century ago, he was still very present in his pain. He was also still wet and blind.

Nicky Boy showed up then too.

“He can’t see me because I didn’t know him in that life. His trauma stops him from seeing me here. I knew him in a different life.”

This man began to speak in a way I could understand.

“I want revenge!”

Oh…that’s what’s keeping him locked in pain.

“I don’t think that’s going to work…”

“I want revenge for what they did to me and to my son!”

“As long as you want revenge upon others who hurt you, you’ll stay in pain. What did they do to your son?”

He showed me an image of his adult son being murdered in what could have been in the same vicious manner.

“I understand why you want revenge. It makes sense. These people hurt and killed you and your son. But it’s obvious you’ve been waiting a long time and revenge hasn’t happened yet. I don’t think you’re going to get your revenge here.”

“They deserve the same pain they caused me and my son.”

I shrugged.

“Your desire for revenge will keep you in a cycle of pain. Whether that pain keeps you in this blind and tortured reality or another reality. It won’t get you to a productive end. Your desire for revenge may be keeping you from seeing your son on the other side. Focus on wanting to see your son.”

As he began communicating what happened to him, he didn’t seem so wet and he appeared calmer too. He seemed more willing to listen.

“You need to cross over.”

“Will they be punished?” he asked.

I shrugged again.

“It will be more like self-punishment. Those who hurt you may very well keep repeating their cycle of pain and trauma. Your desire for revenge keeps you locked in self-punishment. I would imagine it is the same for them…at least for some time. But I haven’t seen anyone punished as you put it.”

It looked like his sight was returning.

“You need to make a choice. Your son could very well be waiting for you on the other side and you’re stuck here. You need to cross over.”

He seemed reluctant to do so, at least until he knew those who harmed him and his son would be punished. Maybe he didn’t quite trust or believe me either.

After thinking about it, I could tell he could see the light or at least a spark of it.

“You want to see your son. I can say he’s not here and you’ve been looking a long time.”

He half-nodded in acknowledgment and very slowly crossed over while I watched and waited.

Nicky Boy acknowledged the work and left. He’ll return again, most likely with a request…or at least to laugh at something I’m doing that he finds humorous.

Well that was one way to begin the day!