Page 49 - Revelation

Svetlana de Rohan-Levashova. Revelation

honestly speaking, at first frightened me a little.

The first was a young woman who for some reason I liked at once. She was very
sad, and I felt that an unhealed wound, which prevented her from going away, "bled"
deeply in her soul. A stranger appeared for the first time, when I sat, comfortably
curled up in dad's arm-chair, and "devoured" a book which it was prohibited to take
out of the house. Enjoying my reading very much, like always, I submerged into an
unknown and such exciting world so deeply that I did not immediately notice an
unusual guest.
First a disturbing sense of a strange presence appeared. The feeling was quite
peculiar, as if a light cool breeze suddenly blew in the room and the air filled with a
transparent vibrating fog. I lifted my head and saw a very beautiful, young and fair-
haired woman right in front of me. Her body slightly shone with bluish light, but apart
from that she looked quite normal. The stranger intently looked at me as if begging
for something. Suddenly I heard:

– Please, help me.
Although she did not open her mouth, I heard the words very clearly; although
they sounded slightly different; the sound was soft and rustling. And here I understood
that she spoke to me the way I had heard it before – the voice sounded only in my
head (which, as I knew later, was telepathy).
– Help me… – the voice quietly rustled again.

– How can I help you? – I asked.
– You can hear me; you can talk to her... – The stranger answered.

– Who must I talk to?
– To my little girl, – the answer followed.
Her name was Veronica. As it appeared, this sad and very attractive woman died
of cancer almost a year ago, when she was just thirty and her little six-year-old
daughter thought that her mother had left her and, therefore, refused to forgive her
and still deeply suffered because of it. Veronica’s son was too little when she died and
did not understand that his mother would never return, and now stranger’s hands
would take him to bed and a stranger’s voice would sing his sweet lullaby to him. He
was still too little and could not realize how much pain such a cruel loss could bring.
The matter with his six-year-old sister was different... That is why this nice woman
could not calm down and go away, while her little daughter suffered so deeply, in
such a grown-up way.

– How shall I find her? – I asked.
– I shall take you, – the answer rustled.

Only now I suddenly noticed that, when she moved, her body easily passed
through furniture and other solid objects, as if being woven from dense fog... I asked
whether it was difficult for her being here. She said – yes, because it was high time
for her to leave. I also asked whether she had been afraid to die. She said – no. Dying
is not a scary thing. The most frightful is to watch those who you leave, because
there are still so many things you wish to say to them, but, regrettably, you
cannot change anything... I felt so sorry for this nice, but helpless and very unhappy

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