When I was just 12 Years old, I was having a very rough time. My father had died about a year before this experience and I had
fallen very ill with Pneumonia, after I recovered my mother felt that she needed to take a break and go to Europe to see some of her family members. She sent me to her friends house (who we will call Mary).
She had 10 children and several grandchildren at the time, and my mother felt I would be safe there, she did not realize that these people were farmers and they ate or drank nothing that was not home grown...
I was young and absolutely refused to drink Goat's milk, well they tricked me and put goat's milk in a milk jug (mind you this is straight from the goat in a dirty barn) I thought it tasted weird, but I was raised on whole milk, and just thought that is how skim milk tasted, within a few hours I became ill (wasn't sure what end to put on the toilet) this went on and on for 3 weeks I could not even hold down water (how I survived, is a miracle in itself). It got to the point where I could no longer walk and I crawled to the bathroom.
Mind you no one ever thought of taking me to a doctor... They just kept giving me Paregoric acid., which made things worse. I remember lying on the couch and praying just to let me die. I fell asleep, (I think) and I awoke in a Pasture, I stood up and Jesus was there, he showed me around a little, I remember looking down a hill at a small stream with a wood bridge and Jesus said "You may go but if you cross the bridge and go to the other side you will be unable to return".
I thought about how beautiful it was and how I wanted to cross that bridge, because I felt wonderful, all of a sudden I thought of my mother and how devastated she would be if I had gone. I then made the decision not to cross the Bridge, I looked at Jesus he smiled and said he would send help and I woke up...
When I woke up my friend Harry was sitting next to me, he said "gosh I thought you were dead, it did not appear that you were breathing", he then asked me if I smelled roses, I could smell the roses too. I then began puking and trying to make my way to the bathroom, while I was in the bathroom I heard the door bell ring. I prayed this was my help, but to my dismay it was some of their family who had came to visit. Harry helped me back to the couch.
As they visited I watched television and I had the strangest urge to get up and get a drink of water, (I knew I was not going to hold it down, so why bother) again I was felt an urge for water so I did crawl to the kitchen and the lady sitting at the table helped me with my glass, she said "I think this is for you and handed me a vial of some medicine" She said to me "My dear we have been traveling around and I think this medicine is meant for you", she explained that they had been touring the United Stated and they had gone to an Old Indian Reservation where they met with the Chief, the Chief had looked in to the flames and went and retrieved their Shaman and they both looked into the flames and gave her this Vial of medicine, told her in her travel she would meet someone who needed this medicine very badly and it was now her duty to give this medicine to the person in which it was intended.
I looked at the vial and figured this was my Help and took a swig of it and a sip of water (It was not very good tasting) better than paregoric though I immediately went to sleep and woke up a day and a half later feeling a little better. I took another swig of the medicine and did not puke or anything else, drank some water felt even better. My mom came that afternoon and was horrified to see me
(I had not looked in a mirror for a month, she rushed me to the emergency room where I was admitted, I insisted on having my vial of medicine, but they took it away from me, my mother cried a lot and wondered how I had survived, when I was admitted to the hospital I weighed 60 lbs, was dehydrated and was diagnosed with Botulism and Salmonella) the doctor had my "Indian Prescription tested found that it was Cheyenne pepper and Opium at which point DCFS was called.
But I insisted they give me that vial and was able to get it back, only after I had told them the story. For months afterward I continued to recover and I kept smelling the Roses. I know that God/Jesus carried me through that time in my life. There is absolutely no reason I should be alive today... but I am. This experience had a profound effect on me, I truly believe that angels are among us, and that the afterlife is nothing to fear, but something to look forward to.
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