So one day in 1998 an American lady who was visiting asked if I would like to find the reason for this. I agreed and went into a deep meditation. “What is your main fear?” I was asked. “Water,” I replied. “I really fear the sea although I have no reason to because I have made several long sea voyages which I enjoyed.” “Did anyone else in your family have this fear?” I was asked. “Only one sister,” I replied. “She died of tuberculosis when she was thirteen years old.” “Tell me about her,” said my friend. When I was about twelve years old myself, I asked my mother how Florrie got tuberculosis and no other family member. Mum said she wasn’t sure, but she heard from Florrie’s friends that when the class were taken to the swimming pool Florrie was so scared of the water that she sat most of the time on the edge of the pool shivering. So as tuberculosis was an epidemic at that time Mum thought that that may have been part of the cause. Florrie had been ill for a few years and one day Mum bought a really beautiful doll to help her through the day while Mum was busy (we had a shop) and while Florrie was in bed. The family was not at all wealthy and to buy this beautiful doll was most unusual. Mum expected Florrie to be delighted but instead she said, “I don’t want that, I want a real live baby.” Trying to console her Mum said, “I know. Why don’t you save all the pennies that you are given because babies cost a lot of money and then maybe sometime you can have one.” Florrie was very ill at that time and so Mum probably thought that would be the end of the baby problem. Florrie hung onto life carefully counting her pennies and then after a while I was conceived. When I was born I was given to Florrie who claimed me as hers from then on. When my younger sister was born thirteen months later Florrie was very jealous but wanted nothing to do with Elsie. After a while Florrie died. “How interesting,” said my friend. “I have been shown what happened. Florrie was your mother in a past life. She was a missionary and when you were a few months old she took you aboard a ship that was to take you both I think, to Africa to continue her work. The boat sank and she struggled to hold you. The sea was too strong. She lost you and almost died herself. She grieved continuously for her baby, and she came back to earth to find you. She had to hold you in her arms again - what a sad story!” Somehow I felt the story was true especially as I remembered my mother saying how very religious Florrie was and how she loved her Bible. At her funeral the children from Sunday school walked behind the hearse wearing wide black sashes and armbands. I was about four years old when Florrie died. The day of the funeral my sister and I were left to be taken care of by neighbours. We can both still remember standing on boxes at the back of our neighbour’s shop to watch the funeral procession and admire the beautiful black horses. |
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