Caroline was our patient for about eighteen months, coming each week, always a bunch of blue ribbons pinned to her dress (my gift to her). Sometimes she would be tearful, occasionally reticent, but mostly she was willing to have me coax a smile from her. Eventually trusting, she grew in confidence and in determination.
Our team of healers and student healers, under my guidance, worked steadily and with dedication, using our energy, connecting with that universal energy, centering ourselves so that we were good channels for that healing energy to pass through, marveling as each week a little more progress was made. Still, of course, Caroline saw her doctors regularly—we always advise our patients to do this—and they too marveled at her sudden and steady progress. Then eventually, after several months, one evening she walked into the healing center, not hopping as she usually did, but with both feet firmly down, her head held high, and her eyes on my face, waiting for my reaction. Finally, after many months of uncertainty and hard work, we knew that she had made it.
Now she is a healthy, normal little girl, very active with her swimming and her bike riding. Her legs are strong, the muscles developing as they should, and she and her family are at peace.
The last time I spoke with Caroline's father, he told me, “Rosemary, I'm not sure if the healing you gave Caroline made any difference as far as healing in a physical sense. Did it actually change the structure of her leg so that she could straighten it, I don't know. But one thing I do know that made the difference in my daughter's healing process. You gave her the will to believe in herself; somehow you gave her the strength to try. The way she thinks, her attitude, has changed so much and in such a positive way. She trusts now, not just in you, but more importantly she trusts in herself and in her ability to live a normal and fulfilling life. I will never be able to thank you enough.”
It is at these times when my team and I feel the real rewards for our efforts, when we know why we work so hard and feel so dedicated, when we can smile and quietly say, “Thank God for the gift to heal.”
How can I explain how healing works? When I talk of energy, universal … God … energy, that healing energy which a healer can “plug” into in the same way we might use electricity, I liken it to that same electric power, unseen and intangible, but nevertheless just as real and much more powerful. A healer will, using mind … thought … energy, project a thought out to the universe. The universe receives this thought, this pulse of energy, and combines its energy, which is then transmitted back to the healer and then on through to the patient. As far as the patient and the healer are concerned, this is, even though so powerful, still a gentle art. The patient will either sit or lie in a comfortable position in order to relax, and the healer will at first place his/her hands upon the patient, sometimes on the patient's shoulders, sometimes on the patient's head. Then, becoming very still, the healer will listen as his senses tell him where his healing energy is-needed most. If a patient has breathing problems, then obviously the healer will “feel” directed to place her hands on the patient's chest. Likewise if the patient has a leg injury, the healer will most likely place his/her hands on the affected area, although not necessarily. No dramatics, no strange antics. The patient will inevitably relax, often going into a gentle sleep state, and will wake feeling calm, settled, and at peace. Although the healer will have concentrated on the physical body, he/she will also, and again using in a constructive way the energy that has been created, have been aware of and given healing to the spirit self, the light of the soul.
In the same way, using mind energy connected with universal, God energy, we can give absent or distant healing. Projecting our thoughts forward and by concentrating our healing thoughts out toward a patient, those thoughts that are pure energy, healing energy, will travel through time and space to reach the person to whom it is directed. Healing, healing energy, knows no bounds. No distance is too far; our organization has many patients around the world who benefit from the healing we send to them.
There are so many stories that I could relate, some sad, many funny, all inspirational, and maybe one day I will write a book dedicated to healing alone, to the patients and to the healers, to my students who are all so wonderful in their giving, and, of course, to those in the spirit world who guide and help us in the work that we do. But one story I will tell here, a story that is ongoing and begins for us, the Rosemary Altea Association of Healers (RAAH), some seven years ago.
Liz Hornby had read in the local newspaper that our second healing center was to be opened in the town of Scunthorpe, in the north of England, close to her home.
Her son Mark, then aged twenty-two, had just twelve months previously been hit by a car as he was crossing the road. He had been knocked down and seriously injured, sustaining severe head injuries, and his parents had been informed by his surgeon that Mark would never be anything more than a vegetable for the rest of his life. For the first eight months after his accident he was in a coma; then, as he slowly came out of it, the doctors realized that his brain had not been totally damaged, that he could hear and understand, but was unable to respond in any way. The diagnosis was that this was the best that could be hoped for. This, under the circumstances, was a miracle in itself.
Finally the day came when Mark's parents took him home. There was no hope for a brighter future, but at least their son was alive. Liz Hornby's determination to help her son, even though the odds were stacked heavily against the kind of help she wanted, that great miracle that would heal her son, led her to the RAAH. She asked if we could help, and that first time I went along to assess Mark, and to decide which of our healers I should assign to this patient, is one that I will never forget. His spine injuries left this young man slumped in a wheelchair, unable to lift his head more than a fraction, unable to move his arms or his hands save one finger, spittle oozing from his mouth over which he had no control. As I talked to him he turned his head sideways in an effort to look at me, and I looked into his eyes, eyes that told me that he understood me … eyes that were smiling … eyes that were then laughing as I joked with him. And I knew then that Mark would be my patient. That somehow, no matter how busy my schedule, I would find the time to give healing to Mark.
I have mentioned that we in the RAAH work as a team, and it has been with the help of that team that we have been able to ensure that Mark has had a visit from one or more of us every week. One of our healers, Joan Mould, visits Mark with me regularly and takes on the responsibility of visiting him when I am out of the country.
Although he is still in a wheelchair, Mark is now talking and receiving speech therapy. He is doing remarkably well and is easily understood. He goes to college once or twice a week and is learning to use a computer, and he writes out all of his own Christmas and birthday cards.
About four years ago Mark was taken into the hospital for a thorough assessment. Although the surgeon was amazed at Mark's progress, Liz and Bob, Mark's parents, were told that it would be impossible for Mark to improve further, that he would never walk again, as part of his spine had crumbled as a result of his accident. The X-rays they had taken showed this clearly; therefore it would be impossible for Mark to stand and support his weight. However, God moves in mysterious ways. Mark is now learning to walk again and is doing very well. Not just a step or two, quite a bit more than that. His balance is a bit of a problem at the moment, and he needs some support, but as he grows stronger and builds his confidence, who knows what he may achieve? He has already beaten all the odds.
There have been many people, friends, carers, doctors, and the like, who have given help to Mark and his family, and Mark has been given encouragement by many, not least his mother, a brave and courageous woman who has quietly battled to attain a good quality of life for her son. Mark, too, has battled and is winning this battle.
My organization is just one small cog in a wheel that just keeps on turning. But that one small cog, with God's help, can from time to time produce miracles.
Before including their story in this book, I asked Mark and his parents if they would like to add anything to what I had written. Knowing that this book would be published and knowing that their story would be read by many people, some in the same situation as themselves, Bob and Elizabeth Hornby asked me to add this comment:
“Rosemary, you gave us hope when everyone else gave us despair.”
It can take but one man, one voice, to rock the world.
Mark is still laughing, and to me, this is the greatest miracle of all.
A
ccepting my role as a healer was difficult at first, but understanding that God and the universe create that power, that healing energy, makes it easier for me to pursue that role.
Discovering that power, and the meaning of that power, took many years, and still I know there is more for me to learn.
I am fortunate. Grey Eagle took me by the hand and led me gently to the place where I am now.
It was 1983. I was actually here, in one of the most fascinating countries of the world, mythical and mystical Egypt—a place I had longed for some time to visit.
I was in Egypt to do some research into the lives of the ancient Egyptians. I needed to discover, if I could, how they were able to tap into those unseen energies that some of us refer to as psychic power.
I had read of the goddess Isis and of her abilities as a healer, and her story had intrigued me more than those of the many others I had heard about the ancient gods and goddesses of Egypt. In visiting her country, I hoped to come closer to her and to her spiritual beliefs and perhaps achieve a greater understanding of my subject and of my work as a medium.
I spent three weeks exploring ancient temples, old ruins, burial grounds, and museums. But it was not until after visiting the Pyramids, and actually exploring inside the largest of the three at Giza, that I was to experience for the first time that well-known psychic phenomenon, astral travel.
Astral travel… the ability of the etheric body to leave, to vacate, the physical body and move, travel, through time and space, in exploration. To travel through space, to go where there are no physical barriers and where anything is possible.
My trip inside the Pyramid was disappointing, and I came away with the distinct feeling of being let down. Goodness knows what I expected to find or, more to the point, what I expected to feel. There were no shadows or ghosts from past times, no unknown voices whispering their stories. I saw no lights, felt no energies, and as I stood in the center of the Pyramid there was, for me, no tremendous surge of power such as I had imagined there might be.
It was as I was climbing back down the steep narrow passages on my way out that I asked Grey Eagle what, if anything, he thought I had gained from this experience.
He gave me one word: power.
I didn't understand him and was more disgruntled than ever as I came back out into the sunshine. It had been an exhausting day, and I arrived back at the apartment tired and hungry, determined not to think too much about the day's events until I had had a good night's sleep.
I woke in the middle of the night to find myself standing between the two single beds. Although it was dark in the room, there was a glimmer of light shining through the crack in the bedroom curtains that enabled me to see quite well. Everything looked and felt quite ordinary, and I experienced no weird sensations of any kind. Only moments passed before the thought flitted across my mind: What am I doing here? and automatically I turned my head, looking over my shoulder to where my bed was.
I wasn't shocked or surprised, only mildly intrigued to find myself peering down at the still and seemingly sleeping form occupying the bed I had only just got out of—the form I instantly recognized as me!
Another thought skimmed through my mind: This must be what it's like to be dead. I chuckled at the idea but knew it was nearly right, and then my curiosity got the better of me. I'll explore, I thought—and no sooner the thought than the deed.
As with the Pyramids, I cannot tell you what I expected to happen, but this time I knew that something would.
I've heard many people talk about the speed of light, but to me it had always been a meaningless phrase … until now. I was aware that I was moving (to say “traveling” would be more accurate), and I was also aware of the tremendous speed, but it was all so natural and so easy. I wasn't flying or floating, and no effort at all was required, yet here I was traveling—astral traveling.
Within a short space of time, and time of a different concept from that I can put into words, I found myself in a large, brightly lit room, surrounded by people. Everyone was chattering, lively and seemingly enjoying what appeared to me to be some sort of party. I felt welcome and warm, not in the least nervous or afraid, but excited, very excited.
It wasn't a dream, as some of you may be thinking, nor was it an overactive imagination. I gazed around me and knew for sure that this was real.
I could fill a book by just recounting the events of that one night. But that, maybe, is for another time. All I can do here is give you just a small glimpse of the probabilities in another world, in another dimension, and in another time.
The people I met that night seemed to be real and of solid matter, flesh and bone, so to speak. They were of varying ages and dressed as one might expect to dress for an informal party.
Shaking hands with them was exactly the same as shaking hands with someone in our world. I felt myself to be solid also, with just the same physical form I had left behind.
Probably the one thing that impressed me the most about my visit into this other realm was the colors. Everything was so fresh, so clean and clear, making the colors stand out beautifully. I don't mean just the color of the sky or the grass or the flowers in the gardens. Even the colors of the women's dresses seemed to hold more clarity.