OUR LADY OF GUADALUPE
A series of seemingly unrelated events leading to a remarkable journey
November 10 and 11, 2007
I have a good friend, Bonnie, who happens to talk to ghosts or rather they talk to her. It keeps her quite busy since she lives right next to a funeral home. Her house is filled with angels, on
plates, ceramic figures, candle holders. They’re everywhere. I only met Bonnie about a year ago although I have know of her for at least ten years. When I say “know of her” I mean another
friend had described her and talked about her in glowing terms saying that one day he would introduce us. It took him ten years. After we met, I found out that we had lived about two block
from each other for around 20 years, had gone to the same grocery store, eaten in the same restaurants and yet we had never run into each other. She doesn’t drive and neither do I, so we
talk on the phone about once a week. During our conversations the phone would crackle and buzz and Bonnie would say, “Someone’s trying to get through.” Often she’d tell me, “Your father’
s there…” And I’d tell her, “tell him to go away. I don’t want anything to do with him.” The last thing I wanted was his spirit hanging around my house. After a while Bonnie got the point and
no longer mentioned my father or his ghost. Still the phone crackled and buzzed.
From the moment I met Bonnie, I thought she was a gentle, kind-hearted soul. My husband thought so too. We found out that she was getting pretty stressed out taking care of her sister
Maggie who was slowly dying. When Bonnie phoned to say she had seen a special on TV about Cassadaga, a town of psychics in Florida, and asked if my husband, Pete, and I would take
her up there. I said we would. It would be a fun getaway. We made plans to go November 10th and 11th, and to stay in the little hotel in Cassadaga. Haunted, of course. Bonnie was thrilled.
She planned on taking plenty of pictures to add to her collection of ghost photos.
Bonnie was planning to see a psychic and ask about her sister. Pete figured he’d get a general reading and maybe get a message from his mother who had died the previous April. I had a few
questions of my own. Pete and I had been arguing about whether I should move from my sculpted and beaded icons of the Virgin Mary to doing something more contemporary using the
computer. I was in a dilemma and could use some “spiritual” guidance.
Well, I saw my psychic and she told me Pete was right. In a nut shell, she said my art was going to change and that I shouldn’t fight it, that I would be shown how to do it. I wasn’t too happy
to hear that since I’d have to admit I was wrong. I was also told that I was very stubborn, and I needed to loosen up and just play with the art. I had too much of a been-there-done-that
attitude.
Bonnie and I went to a healing service, bought some books, and then headed home. Pete made a stop in DeLand to show us Stetson University and take more pictures. It was a short
weekend, fun, and a welcome break for all of us.
The next Saturday, Pete took me to one of my favorite places, Goodwill. I picked up a lot of things there that I could use for my icons. I’ve found great frames, jewelry, and beaded clothes
that I would cut up and use on my madonnas. Pete would look for book, music and videos. I’d always go away from there with great finds. This time my find was a large brown resin cross. I
had no idea what I was going to do with it yet but it fascinated me. I laid it on the kitchen counter where I could look at it and study it for various possibilities. The center of the cross was a
relief of a flower with a round center. Just as an experiment, I placed one of the glass eyes I use in making my madonnas in the center of the flower. It was the wrong size, shape and color but I
decided that the center part would make a great eye. The eye of God. Wow! Neat idea! But how to do it? This would take some thinking. And a lot of praying.
November 22. Thanksgiving. We went to Naples to visit with our daughter, her husband, and their two children (teenagers). Our son, his wife, and three young sons were coming from
Jacksonville. It had been more than a year and a half since we’d all been together and we planned to have a family portrait taken by a professional photographer. After telling our daughter
about our trip to Cassadaga, she said she wanted to go. She had started her own mortgage company and with the downward turn of the economy things were rather
“ify”.
November 25, 2007 Sunday
Pete’s watchband was coming off all the time and I knew I had seen some watches we had repaired earlier in the year
somewhere in the house. I thought that maybe they were in my bedroom dresser drawer, the place where I stash
everything of potential value, just in case I need it someday. Well, today was the day. One by one I went through the
drawer picking through things. Underwear and bras I’d never wear…tossed out. The package top of the hair color I
used years ago just in case I forgot the brand and color. I found the finger of a doll I had sculpted. The doll, dressed in a
Transylvanian costume was waiting on the top shelf of a closet fingerless. I thought I had lost that finger forever in our
move, and here it was in perfect condition in my drawer. All I had to do was glue it back on, which I did immediately. I
considered that a lucky find. That finger had been gone for years. I wondered what else I had in that drawer. Stockings
not worn in years and still in their original package. An empty bottle of my grandmother Mimi’s perfume. Wedgewood
by Dorothy Gray. After all these years, 46 years, and Pete washing it out with water for some unknown reason, it still
held her scent. I untwisted the top and took a whiff. It always made me feel good. I wondered if I could get it on-line.
But a fresh bottle wouldn’t be the same. Then I found my velvet pouch of goodies. I called them that because they were
things that made me feel good. Inside was the old fashioned metal key my grandmother always kept on her dressing
table. I had no idea what it originally locked or unlocked. I just liked the feel of it and the memories it evoked. There was
a small amethyst that fit into the palm of my hand and felt warm and good. And there was another crystal cut to a point
on one end and rough on the other. A friend gave me that. There was also another stone. I had given that stone, shaped
like a cross, to my grandmother, Mimi, as a souvenir of our family’s trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains. We went into a
small shop on a hiking trail and there were zillions of them. The sales lady said that they were all naturally formed stones.
The legend was that St. John had come to America to convert the Indians but no one would listen so he sat on a rock
and told the story of Jesus out loud to no one. The fairies in the woods heard the story and cried at the story of Jesus’
crucifixion and as the tears hit the ground they formed stone crosses. I knew my grandmother would love it. She died
when I was 14 and I always wondered what happened to that stone. When my grandfather died in 1984, I inherited my
grandmother’s bedroom furniture. I opened the first drawer, and there it was. It had come back to me and now was
stuck safely in the velvet pouch. My dresser drawer also contained what looked like a ring box. I opened it expecting to
find a ring of some kind but what I found was a single pearl my husband had brought back from a trip to San Francisco.
There was also a clear plastic box holding a wooden rosary that he bought on that same trip from the Mission San
Dolores.
I took the rosary out to examine it. It was nice. The wooden crucifix had a very small glass bubble in the center.
Probably holds holy water, I thought. I held it up to my eye to see if there was actually any holy water in it or if it was
dry. I was surprised to find the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe. It was amazing. The colors were bright, there were
roses surrounding her, and angels, and the rays of the sun. This was a real find. I called my husband to come and take a
look. He was pretty impressed also and surprised that it had been sitting there for years and I never noticed. He told me
it was a mandate to continue with making icons of the Virgin Mary. I had stopped for about a year after a dismal
showing at an art festival. So I would start sculpting again. I had been thinking about making a nativity scene for
Christmas. I could use the rustic Mexican fireplace as the grotto and the log holder as a manger. It was going to be
purely decorative. By the time I went to bed on Sunday night, I had actually made a new head of Mary. I was pleased
with myself. I was back.
Pete’s watchband was coming off all the time and I knew I had seen some watches we had repaired earlier in the year
somewhere in the house. I thought that maybe they were in my bedroom dresser drawer, the place where I stash
everything of potential value, just in case I need it someday. Well, today was the day. One by one I went through the
drawer picking through things. Underwear and bras I’d never wear…tossed out. The package top of the hair color I
used years ago just in case I forgot the brand and color. I found the finger of a doll I had sculpted. The doll, dressed in a
Transylvanian costume was waiting on the top shelf of a closet fingerless. I thought I had lost that finger forever in our
move, and here it was in perfect condition in my drawer. All I had to do was glue it back on, which I did immediately. I
considered that a lucky find. That finger had been gone for years. I wondered what else I had in that drawer. Stockings
not worn in years and still in their original package. An empty bottle of my grandmother Mimi’s perfume. Wedgewood
by Dorothy Gray. After all these years, 46 years, and Pete washing it out with water for some unknown reason, it still
held her scent. I untwisted the top and took a whiff. It always made me feel good. I wondered if I could get it on-line.
But a fresh bottle wouldn’t be the same. Then I found my velvet pouch of goodies. I called them that because they were
things that made me feel good. Inside was the old fashioned metal key my grandmother always kept on her dressing
table. I had no idea what it originally locked or unlocked. I just liked the feel of it and the memories it evoked. There was
a small amethyst that fit into the palm of my hand and felt warm and good. And there was another crystal cut to a point
on one end and rough on the other. A friend gave me that. There was also another stone. I had given that stone, shaped
like a cross, to my grandmother, Mimi, as a souvenir of our family’s trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains. We went into a
small shop on a hiking trail and there were zillions of them. The sales lady said that they were all naturally formed stones.
The legend was that St. John had come to America to convert the Indians but no one would listen so he sat on a rock
and told the story of Jesus out loud to no one. The fairies in the woods heard the story and cried at the story of Jesus’
crucifixion and as the tears hit the ground they formed stone crosses. I knew my grandmother would love it. She died
when I was 14 and I always wondered what happened to that stone. When my grandfather died in 1984, I inherited my
grandmother’s bedroom furniture. I opened the first drawer, and there it was. It had come back to me and now was
stuck safely in the velvet pouch. My dresser drawer also contained what looked like a ring box. I opened it expecting to
find a ring of some kind but what I found was a single pearl my husband had brought back from a trip to San Francisco.
There was also a clear plastic box holding a wooden rosary that he bought on that same trip from the Mission San
Dolores.
I took the rosary out to examine it. It was nice. The wooden crucifix had a very small glass bubble in the center.
Probably holds holy water, I thought. I held it up to my eye to see if there was actually any holy water in it or if it was
dry. I was surprised to find the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe. It was amazing. The colors were bright, there were
roses surrounding her, and angels, and the rays of the sun. This was a real find. I called my husband to come and take a
look. He was pretty impressed also and surprised that it had been sitting there for years and I never noticed. He told me
it was a mandate to continue with making icons of the Virgin Mary. I had stopped for about a year after a dismal
showing at an art festival. So I would start sculpting again. I had been thinking about making a nativity scene for
Christmas. I could use the rustic Mexican fireplace as the grotto and the log holder as a manger. It was going to be
purely decorative. By the time I went to bed on Sunday night, I had actually made a new head of Mary. I was pleased
with myself. I was back.
The next morning I got up at 6 am and got dressed to go to work. I went downstairs to let our dog out and to make coffee. To my horror, the first thing I saw was my icon, Madonna of the
Rosary, face down on the ceramic tile floor. The Peruvian sunburst frame was still on the wall the mirror still intact, with a layer of wood from the back of the icon still firmly glued there. It
seemed to me that it was ripped off. And I felt I knew who did it. My father. He always hated it when I drew madonnas or spiritual art. And he was letting me know. Either that or I was just
being paranoid.
I was afraid to pick up the icon expecting the worst, that it was shattered beyond repair. It wouldn’t be the first time. I had another icon shatter when a friend accidently bumped it off a hutch.
My husband came down the stairs and I said, “Look!” as I pointed to the icon. He said to pick it up carefully.
We both held our breath as I gently lifted it. To our amazement, it was in one piece. Not one crack on the Madonna. Not a pearl missing. I was stunned and so was my husband. When I
calmed down and drank my cup of coffee, it dawned on me that the image of the Virgin of Guadulape in the rosary and my sculpture, Madonna of the Rosary, are both encircled with roses.
The rosary in my icon was made out of pearls like the pearl I found. And as if to drive the point home, when my husband absent-mindedly set an empty glass on the kitchen counter a little too
close to the edge, the glass fell to the floor shattering into a thousand little pieces.
I was in awe and also upset. My intuition was telling me that something or the spirit of somebody didn’t want me to continue making icons; and that someone or something want me to continue
making the icons. It was creepy like when I made the Mother of the Forgotten icon. (Mother of the Forgotten). I asked Pete if he would help me, using the tool of guided imagery, later in the
evening, to see what had really happened, not what I was imagining to happen.
The session was both wonderful and disturbing. After Pete and I both prayed together for guidance from the Holy Spirit, he helped me get to a relaxed state both mentally and physically. I
wanted to know how and why the icon had fallen and yet not been destroyed. I didn’t want a paranoid guess but the truth. What I saw was the angry spirit of my father rip the Madonna off
her base and lift it over his head, heaving it downward….. but before it reached the tile floor, it was caught by two beautiful hands. I could see the stars on the mantle that covered her arms.
She gently placed it face down on the tile floor. I did not see her face but I knew she was Our Lady of Guadalupe. Now I knew how it happened but not why. Why did my father try to
destroy this particular piece of art and why did Our Lady of Guadalupe save it? I knew nothing about her. Nothing at all. She was a complete mystery to me.
Pete suggested that I look up the Virgin of Guadalupe on Google. I found there were two Virgins of Guadalupe. One in Spain that had been buried for 600 years and then found by a
shepherd and another Virgin in Mexico. Below is what I found on the internet (http://www.sancta.org/eyes.html .
Rosary, face down on the ceramic tile floor. The Peruvian sunburst frame was still on the wall the mirror still intact, with a layer of wood from the back of the icon still firmly glued there. It
seemed to me that it was ripped off. And I felt I knew who did it. My father. He always hated it when I drew madonnas or spiritual art. And he was letting me know. Either that or I was just
being paranoid.
I was afraid to pick up the icon expecting the worst, that it was shattered beyond repair. It wouldn’t be the first time. I had another icon shatter when a friend accidently bumped it off a hutch.
My husband came down the stairs and I said, “Look!” as I pointed to the icon. He said to pick it up carefully.
We both held our breath as I gently lifted it. To our amazement, it was in one piece. Not one crack on the Madonna. Not a pearl missing. I was stunned and so was my husband. When I
calmed down and drank my cup of coffee, it dawned on me that the image of the Virgin of Guadulape in the rosary and my sculpture, Madonna of the Rosary, are both encircled with roses.
The rosary in my icon was made out of pearls like the pearl I found. And as if to drive the point home, when my husband absent-mindedly set an empty glass on the kitchen counter a little too
close to the edge, the glass fell to the floor shattering into a thousand little pieces.
I was in awe and also upset. My intuition was telling me that something or the spirit of somebody didn’t want me to continue making icons; and that someone or something want me to continue
making the icons. It was creepy like when I made the Mother of the Forgotten icon. (Mother of the Forgotten). I asked Pete if he would help me, using the tool of guided imagery, later in the
evening, to see what had really happened, not what I was imagining to happen.
The session was both wonderful and disturbing. After Pete and I both prayed together for guidance from the Holy Spirit, he helped me get to a relaxed state both mentally and physically. I
wanted to know how and why the icon had fallen and yet not been destroyed. I didn’t want a paranoid guess but the truth. What I saw was the angry spirit of my father rip the Madonna off
her base and lift it over his head, heaving it downward….. but before it reached the tile floor, it was caught by two beautiful hands. I could see the stars on the mantle that covered her arms.
She gently placed it face down on the tile floor. I did not see her face but I knew she was Our Lady of Guadalupe. Now I knew how it happened but not why. Why did my father try to
destroy this particular piece of art and why did Our Lady of Guadalupe save it? I knew nothing about her. Nothing at all. She was a complete mystery to me.
Pete suggested that I look up the Virgin of Guadalupe on Google. I found there were two Virgins of Guadalupe. One in Spain that had been buried for 600 years and then found by a
shepherd and another Virgin in Mexico. Below is what I found on the internet (http://www.sancta.org/eyes.html .
The Mystery in Our Lady's Eyes
According to many scientists who have inspected the image, it seems that in her eyes, in both of them and in
the precise location as reflected by a live human eye, could be seen many figures that have been extensively
analyzed and seem to correspond to the shape and size of human figures located in front of the image.
In 1929, Alfonso Marcue, who was the official photographer of the old Basilica of Guadalupe in Mexico
City, found what seemed to him to be a clear image of a bearded man reflected in the right eye of the Virgin.
Initially he did not believe what was before his eyes. How could it be? A bearded man inside of the eyes of
the Virgin?. After many inspections of many of his black and white photographs he had no doubts and
decided to inform the authorities of the Basilica. He was told that time to keep complete silence about the
discovery, which he did.
More than 20 years later, on May 29, 1951, Jose Carlos Salinas Chavez, examining a good photograph of
the face, rediscovers the image of what clearly appears to be a bearded man reflected in the right eye of the
Virgin, and locates it on the left eye too. Since then, many people had the opportunity to inspect closely the
eyes of the Virgin on the tilma, including more than 20 physicians, ophthalmologists.
The first one, on March 27, 1956, was Dr. Javier Torroella Bueno, MDS, a prestigious ophthalmologist. In
what is the first report on the eyes of the image issued by a physician, he certifies what seems to be the
presence of the triple reflection (Samson-Purkinje effect) characteristic of all live human eyes and states that
the resulting images are located exactly where they are supposed to be according to such effect, and also that
the distortion of the images agree with the curvature of the cornea
According to many scientists who have inspected the image, it seems that in her eyes, in both of them and in
the precise location as reflected by a live human eye, could be seen many figures that have been extensively
analyzed and seem to correspond to the shape and size of human figures located in front of the image.
In 1929, Alfonso Marcue, who was the official photographer of the old Basilica of Guadalupe in Mexico
City, found what seemed to him to be a clear image of a bearded man reflected in the right eye of the Virgin.
Initially he did not believe what was before his eyes. How could it be? A bearded man inside of the eyes of
the Virgin?. After many inspections of many of his black and white photographs he had no doubts and
decided to inform the authorities of the Basilica. He was told that time to keep complete silence about the
discovery, which he did.
More than 20 years later, on May 29, 1951, Jose Carlos Salinas Chavez, examining a good photograph of
the face, rediscovers the image of what clearly appears to be a bearded man reflected in the right eye of the
Virgin, and locates it on the left eye too. Since then, many people had the opportunity to inspect closely the
eyes of the Virgin on the tilma, including more than 20 physicians, ophthalmologists.
The first one, on March 27, 1956, was Dr. Javier Torroella Bueno, MDS, a prestigious ophthalmologist. In
what is the first report on the eyes of the image issued by a physician, he certifies what seems to be the
presence of the triple reflection (Samson-Purkinje effect) characteristic of all live human eyes and states that
the resulting images are located exactly where they are supposed to be according to such effect, and also that
the distortion of the images agree with the curvature of the cornea
|
A new and interesting kind of analysis of the eyes started in 1979, when Dr. Jose Aste
Tonsmann, Ph D, graduated from Cornell University, while working in IBM scanned at very
high resolutions a very good photograph, taken from the original, of the face on the tilma. After
filtering and processing the digitized images of the eyes to eliminate "noise" and enhance them, he
reports he made some astonishing discoveries: not only the "human bust" was clearly present in
both eyes, but another human figures were seen as reflected in the eyes too.
Dr. Aste Tonsmann published his last studies on the eyes on the tilma in the book "El Secreto de
sus Ojos", with complete details and photographs of his work.
Tonsmann, Ph D, graduated from Cornell University, while working in IBM scanned at very
high resolutions a very good photograph, taken from the original, of the face on the tilma. After
filtering and processing the digitized images of the eyes to eliminate "noise" and enhance them, he
reports he made some astonishing discoveries: not only the "human bust" was clearly present in
both eyes, but another human figures were seen as reflected in the eyes too.
Dr. Aste Tonsmann published his last studies on the eyes on the tilma in the book "El Secreto de
sus Ojos", with complete details and photographs of his work.
Perhaps one of the most interesting aspects of the studies is his conclusion that Our Lady of Guadalupe not only left us her miraculous image as proof of her apparition but some important
messages too. These messages were hidden in the eyes on the image until our times, when new technologies would allow them to be discovered, when they are most necessary.
That would be the case with the image of a family in the center of the Virgin's eye, in times when families are under serious attack in our modern world. The image of various human figures
that seem to constitute a family, including various children and a baby carried in the woman's back as used in the 16th century, appears in the center of the pupil, as shown in this great image
of the right eye highlighting the family, generously provided by Dr. Tonsmann.
OK. I was fascinated but what did it have to do with my father? How were the two related? Or maybe it was just me thinking they were. Was this Our Lady showing me how to do the eye
in the crucifix? This would require a lot more thinking. God’s eye takes in everything and everybody. That would be an impossibility for any human to even consider. On the off chance that I
might find something, I did a search on Google. I found an “eye by God!” and a picture sent back from the Hubble space craft of the constellation Eye of God. I also found pictures of the eye
of a hurricane. I decided to experiment.
messages too. These messages were hidden in the eyes on the image until our times, when new technologies would allow them to be discovered, when they are most necessary.
That would be the case with the image of a family in the center of the Virgin's eye, in times when families are under serious attack in our modern world. The image of various human figures
that seem to constitute a family, including various children and a baby carried in the woman's back as used in the 16th century, appears in the center of the pupil, as shown in this great image
of the right eye highlighting the family, generously provided by Dr. Tonsmann.
OK. I was fascinated but what did it have to do with my father? How were the two related? Or maybe it was just me thinking they were. Was this Our Lady showing me how to do the eye
in the crucifix? This would require a lot more thinking. God’s eye takes in everything and everybody. That would be an impossibility for any human to even consider. On the off chance that I
might find something, I did a search on Google. I found an “eye by God!” and a picture sent back from the Hubble space craft of the constellation Eye of God. I also found pictures of the eye
of a hurricane. I decided to experiment.
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More Seemingly Unrelated Events…Continued
December 1, 2007
We went to K-Mart to buy some Christmas decorations for my office and for my first Christmas tree in years. For some reason I really wanted to decorate for Christmas this year although
ever since our kids left home (approximately 15 years ago) I hadn’t bothered. K-Mart had some ornaments in the Hungarian Kalscsay design and the theme this year in the office was
Diversity. I had decided to do Christmas in Hungary. The ornaments would do double duty, office and home. As I was in the checkout counter, my husband pointed out that the sound system
in the store was playing “Ave Maria” which is also the song I use for my web page. It seemed somewhat odd. Not your usual Christmas song, especially for K-Mart.
December 2, 2007
We went to Goodwill and I found a Wedgwood tile 8x10 of a virgin with a unicorn (the perfume my grandmother Mimi wore was Wedgwood by Dorothy Gray.)
December 16, 2007
Decided to make baby Jesus’ face today. I figured I’d better find a picture of a baby to use as a reference or I would be making – I don’t know what! I have a file of saved magazine photos
and family photos of babies in various poses so I thought I’d look through that and find something. As I was going through it, I found a bunch of holy cards, mostly Greek orthodox icons. The
last card was the Virgin of Guadalupe. I turned the card over to see what was on the back – a prayer for God’s mercy for someone suffering the fires of hell. The holy card was from Ray
Grohowski’s funeral (a Polish guy – definitely not Mexican, and very nice, not someone who I would think of as suffering the fires of hell). I helped him ghost-write a book back in the 1980’s
that was never finished because he got cancer and died. I thought it was not just weird, but inappropriate to have this prayer for Ray’s funeral. It made me feel a little angry. Then I got this
feeling that the prayer was for my father who died 30 years ago. I immediately dismissed the thought, my father, and the prayer. He was one person I wasn’t going to pray for and he knew
why where ever he was. But still I found it interesting that she keeps showing up. (the holy card is at the top of the page). My husband found an oil painting on canvas of her in the University
Student Center that he bought for me to hang in my office.
December 22, 2007
We left to spend Christmas with our son and his family in Jacksonville. It’s a long six hour drive and it seemed longer with all the traffic. Christmas Eve was spent with Judy’s family and
Christmas morning was happy chaos as three little boys tore open presents. Our gift was a beautiful framed family portrait which now hangs in our living room. We all dressed for Mass then
went over to the club where Judy’s large family meets (over 64 cousins). My husband’s 24 year old nephew from Hungary was visiting us for the holidays and came along with us to
Jacksonville. He was able to experience the madness of an American Christmas with toys and little kids running and screaming everywhere. Under Communism there was no Christmas…it
was called Pine Tree day. The only presents were ones that were handmade.
December 31, 2007
My husband’s nephew left for Berkley, California to spend New Year’s with his professor. We decided to have an impromptu New Year’s Eve party. The house looked great with my nativity
scene in the fireplace. They weren’t totally finished yet. I didn’t have time to paint them so they look kind of modern. A few people noticed I was working on a new project, a crucifix. I told a
few people about my Guadalupe story and of course I got a few funny looks in exchange.
January 18, 2008
Our daughter had called a few days earlier to get together to exchange Christmas presents. “By the way,” she asked if we would go with her to Cassadaga? She had decided to let the
mortgage company go and had been looking for a new job. She had several offers and couldn’t decide which one to take. We were to come over on Friday night and we would leave in her
bigger car at 5:30 am. We drove for four hours in dense fog. Visibility was zero at times. When we got to Cassadaga it was sunny. Both Pete and Suzie booked psychics that worked from the
hotel. I decided this time that I wanted to see a psychic associated with the church. I wanted more of a spiritual reading. I picked one randomly from the list at the bookstore. So we split up
deciding to meet back at the hotel when we were finished. I walked to the house where my reading was to take place. It had a nice feeling about it, with angels in the garden. We said a prayer
first for guidance and then she said: “There’s a man here….he’s your father.” I thought, good God he’s back. And I wasn’t happy. He had a lot of nerve. This was supposed to be a fun day,
and he was the last person I wanted to deal with on this earth or elsewhere. She went on: “He’s saying he’s sorry. He wants your forgiveness. He knows he was responsible for, in a way,
wrecking your life. He says he made the wrong choices and part of it was the way he was brought up. He was under a lot of stress.” I’m thinking, Yeah, right…stress and your parents! You
had choices and you made the same choices over and over. I was not in a forgiving mood. She paused. “Can you forgive him? You need to forgive him so you can move on.” I thought about
it. It wasn’t an easy decision. The easiest thing would be for me to say get lost and stay out of my life…FOREVER. But then I said, “Yes, I forgive him.” She then asked, “He wants to know if
you’ll accept help from him.” I had to think about that one too. Finally I said yes. We said a prayer together and sent him to the light. Then quickly I said, “Wait. Was he the one who threw
down my icon?” She said, “He’s gone. But it was him. He was angry and wanted your attention.” She then had me hold a book written by St. Germaine and open it up randomly to any page.
It opened to a prayer of forgiveness. I then had to pick four angel cards. Understanding, Synthesis, Abundance, and Peace. She told me to write a letter to my father and let him know what
had hurt me, what I was angry about and then to write out my forgiveness. When I was done, I was to bless it and then burn it, releasing not only my father but also myself.
Despite a four hour drive home in a deluge of rain, I felt lighter.
I waited a day before I wrote my letter. I wanted to gather my thoughts. It was not an easy letter to write. There were a lot of emotions I had buried that I now had to dig up. Writing out my
forgiveness was especially difficult. I also asked forgiveness for waiting so long to write this letter.
Since then the Virgin of Guadalupe has come to me in the form of emails, holy cards, and even a chain letter. I also finished my cross.
December 1, 2007
We went to K-Mart to buy some Christmas decorations for my office and for my first Christmas tree in years. For some reason I really wanted to decorate for Christmas this year although
ever since our kids left home (approximately 15 years ago) I hadn’t bothered. K-Mart had some ornaments in the Hungarian Kalscsay design and the theme this year in the office was
Diversity. I had decided to do Christmas in Hungary. The ornaments would do double duty, office and home. As I was in the checkout counter, my husband pointed out that the sound system
in the store was playing “Ave Maria” which is also the song I use for my web page. It seemed somewhat odd. Not your usual Christmas song, especially for K-Mart.
December 2, 2007
We went to Goodwill and I found a Wedgwood tile 8x10 of a virgin with a unicorn (the perfume my grandmother Mimi wore was Wedgwood by Dorothy Gray.)
December 16, 2007
Decided to make baby Jesus’ face today. I figured I’d better find a picture of a baby to use as a reference or I would be making – I don’t know what! I have a file of saved magazine photos
and family photos of babies in various poses so I thought I’d look through that and find something. As I was going through it, I found a bunch of holy cards, mostly Greek orthodox icons. The
last card was the Virgin of Guadalupe. I turned the card over to see what was on the back – a prayer for God’s mercy for someone suffering the fires of hell. The holy card was from Ray
Grohowski’s funeral (a Polish guy – definitely not Mexican, and very nice, not someone who I would think of as suffering the fires of hell). I helped him ghost-write a book back in the 1980’s
that was never finished because he got cancer and died. I thought it was not just weird, but inappropriate to have this prayer for Ray’s funeral. It made me feel a little angry. Then I got this
feeling that the prayer was for my father who died 30 years ago. I immediately dismissed the thought, my father, and the prayer. He was one person I wasn’t going to pray for and he knew
why where ever he was. But still I found it interesting that she keeps showing up. (the holy card is at the top of the page). My husband found an oil painting on canvas of her in the University
Student Center that he bought for me to hang in my office.
December 22, 2007
We left to spend Christmas with our son and his family in Jacksonville. It’s a long six hour drive and it seemed longer with all the traffic. Christmas Eve was spent with Judy’s family and
Christmas morning was happy chaos as three little boys tore open presents. Our gift was a beautiful framed family portrait which now hangs in our living room. We all dressed for Mass then
went over to the club where Judy’s large family meets (over 64 cousins). My husband’s 24 year old nephew from Hungary was visiting us for the holidays and came along with us to
Jacksonville. He was able to experience the madness of an American Christmas with toys and little kids running and screaming everywhere. Under Communism there was no Christmas…it
was called Pine Tree day. The only presents were ones that were handmade.
December 31, 2007
My husband’s nephew left for Berkley, California to spend New Year’s with his professor. We decided to have an impromptu New Year’s Eve party. The house looked great with my nativity
scene in the fireplace. They weren’t totally finished yet. I didn’t have time to paint them so they look kind of modern. A few people noticed I was working on a new project, a crucifix. I told a
few people about my Guadalupe story and of course I got a few funny looks in exchange.
January 18, 2008
Our daughter had called a few days earlier to get together to exchange Christmas presents. “By the way,” she asked if we would go with her to Cassadaga? She had decided to let the
mortgage company go and had been looking for a new job. She had several offers and couldn’t decide which one to take. We were to come over on Friday night and we would leave in her
bigger car at 5:30 am. We drove for four hours in dense fog. Visibility was zero at times. When we got to Cassadaga it was sunny. Both Pete and Suzie booked psychics that worked from the
hotel. I decided this time that I wanted to see a psychic associated with the church. I wanted more of a spiritual reading. I picked one randomly from the list at the bookstore. So we split up
deciding to meet back at the hotel when we were finished. I walked to the house where my reading was to take place. It had a nice feeling about it, with angels in the garden. We said a prayer
first for guidance and then she said: “There’s a man here….he’s your father.” I thought, good God he’s back. And I wasn’t happy. He had a lot of nerve. This was supposed to be a fun day,
and he was the last person I wanted to deal with on this earth or elsewhere. She went on: “He’s saying he’s sorry. He wants your forgiveness. He knows he was responsible for, in a way,
wrecking your life. He says he made the wrong choices and part of it was the way he was brought up. He was under a lot of stress.” I’m thinking, Yeah, right…stress and your parents! You
had choices and you made the same choices over and over. I was not in a forgiving mood. She paused. “Can you forgive him? You need to forgive him so you can move on.” I thought about
it. It wasn’t an easy decision. The easiest thing would be for me to say get lost and stay out of my life…FOREVER. But then I said, “Yes, I forgive him.” She then asked, “He wants to know if
you’ll accept help from him.” I had to think about that one too. Finally I said yes. We said a prayer together and sent him to the light. Then quickly I said, “Wait. Was he the one who threw
down my icon?” She said, “He’s gone. But it was him. He was angry and wanted your attention.” She then had me hold a book written by St. Germaine and open it up randomly to any page.
It opened to a prayer of forgiveness. I then had to pick four angel cards. Understanding, Synthesis, Abundance, and Peace. She told me to write a letter to my father and let him know what
had hurt me, what I was angry about and then to write out my forgiveness. When I was done, I was to bless it and then burn it, releasing not only my father but also myself.
Despite a four hour drive home in a deluge of rain, I felt lighter.
I waited a day before I wrote my letter. I wanted to gather my thoughts. It was not an easy letter to write. There were a lot of emotions I had buried that I now had to dig up. Writing out my
forgiveness was especially difficult. I also asked forgiveness for waiting so long to write this letter.
Since then the Virgin of Guadalupe has come to me in the form of emails, holy cards, and even a chain letter. I also finished my cross.
| If you have any stories on the Virgin Mary, or Forgiveness and how it has affected your life, please send them to me via email: diannemarlene@yahoo.com |
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