My Search For Truths Which Transcend Our Senses
My Search For Truths Which Transcend Our Senses Testimonials
My Search For Truths Which Transcend Our Senses : I was at the end of junior school term, I don't remember exactly my age at that time, and it was a gorgeous afternoon of a fall day, with a stingy frizzy air. My father asked me if I wanted to go with him to gather some soil in the chestnut garden: the soil you find in that area is said to be particularly fertile and apt to the growth of indoor plants and has all the substances the plants need. I immediately agreed, I quickly got ready and I jumped into the car. I loved spending time with my father, he told me stories and we sang together songs of his youth.
He was a little out of tune, but it was fun!!
Among the chestnut trees, you could see here and there beams of light piercing through the leaves and I was stunned and amazed by those feelings.
Those rays reminded me of adventures with fairies and gnomes in distant woods ... I was running all the time but my feet were starting to feel cold, the colder the feet felt, the more I kept on running and running, crushing the chestnuts pods which released their precious fruit ... I collected them in order to roast them later once I got home ..
You could see the fall from the colours of the leaves of the different kinds of trees which were starting to paint the mountain, with a multicolored brush and the heart rendering beauty of this scene filled me with an emotion I could barely describe and I still I am not able to quite explain. All I know is that I was happy and I didn't care that much about the approaching darkness and the stingy cold. Quickly we got into the car to go back home.
The street was running along a cemetery, and actually it was the only road at that time. Only a few years later they would build the bypass, as it stands now. It was possible to enter the cemetery through three entrances; the main entrance was the central one, barred with a stout iron fence which was almost always open, apart from night time. It was there that I saw a tall cylindrical base, with an inscription in gilded, capital letters, I had never noticed it before. The language seemed to be Latin, even though I didn't have any knowledge of Latin at that time ... so I couldn't read what was written on it.
On top of the pedestal, standing up, with her hands crossed as if praying, and her beautiful face looking at the sky, there was a Lady dressed in white.
You could see some of her locks of her dark hair escaping from under a little veil, just like those veils that women used to wear in the past when entering a church. I also noticed the lady's eyes, piercing light blue, the same color as those of my father, which, ironically, is one of the rare physical traits that I did not inherit from him.
We need so many words just to describe an image, a feeling, a sunset...the very act of describing them inevitably diminishes them somehow...because of course this takes away from the depth of the emotion that an image, a sensation or a sunset stir inside us, in our soul, in our senses that are left dazzled ...
Words cannot bestow the immediacy of the impression which is thus left diluted somehow ... but alas words are all we have to express all we have, inside, or to talk about what is outside of us.
All this was to explain that I had noticed these details in few seconds, while my dad's car was driving by those three fences.
I wouldn't have been so struck if this Lady had not been bare footed. I thought about my own feet, frozen despite the fact that I was wearing thick socks, shoes, and I had been running ... and I fathomed that maybe that Lady was a bit crazy. It was certainly unusual to stand up there like a statue with a dress that looked too light and without even any shoes. My father was driving and didn't notice anything. I turned my head with curiosity to look at the gate and then looked back again on my seat to see again that image when the car passed by the third gate. By then my effort was in vain ... by then I could no longer see neither the pedestal nor the lady, whose presence I had noticed earlier.
Who was that Lady? How I was able to capture all these details in such a clear way even though it was almost dark? What was that inscription on the pedestal? At that time I didn't know what to do, I was astonished, rendered speechless by an experience which I considered too big for me and which scared my heart and my mind for several days. I couldn't keep that secret any longer and I talked about it at school. Obviously the teacher interpreted it as a dream, a fantasy or a way to get my schoolmates' attention, but it wasn't like that at all! I talked about it at home and they believed me because they know my absolute moral honesty...besides, what would I have gained from telling such a peculiar story?
Nevertheless my mind and my heart, and paradoxically my rationality ... did indeed gain very much from this experience ... my rationality now does not exclude anything as impossible just because a phenomena doesn't have a scientific explanation for it and can not be repeated at will. Science, after all, is just the tip of the iceberg of what man knows, but the most of the knowledge, in my opinion, is underwater, beyond our human scope or in any case not yet discovered. This fact represented a very important landmark in my life and it was the hint which motivated my search for truths which transcend our senses but that can be felt, reading countless books I would have never thought I could read and love ... my research of God.
'Sometimes, week after week, I would forget the power and the immediacy of this (...) experience. Sometimes I would relapse into routine of everyday life worrying about the usual things. Doubts would reappear. It was as if my mind, left out of focus, tended to revert back to the old patterns, beliefs and skepticism. But then I would tell myself...it really did happen! I became aware of how difficult it would be to believe in this kind of concepts without having had a first-hand, direct experience. Experience is necessary in order to add the emotional belief to the intellectual one. However, the impact of that experience always weakens over with time, to a certain degree.'
(Brian Weiss, Many Lives Many Masters, Arnoldo Mondadory puslishing house, 1997)
That is not what happened to me. That experience, sometimes weakened from what is mentioned above, comes back stronger than ever...doubts vanish as soon as I think about these bare feet and my reflection about them and ... I won't ever have enough words to thank them!
Patrizia
My Search For Truths Which Transcend Our Senses Testimonials
www.leparoledegliangeli.com/en The words of the Angels