By now, I'd begun to question most of the "Teachings of the Church." They just didn't make sense, or feel right. No, those questions were never silent....they would come flying right out of my mouth. Why? Why did I have to be so VERBAL? Why, when I knew that I would just get in trouble? Well, it wasn't by CHOICE, let me tell you! Or was it?

My grades were pretty average. I mean, they averaged out. It was either "A+ or C-" with not much in between. English, Spelling, Reading, Writing, Geography and Music were my favorites, and I did well in those subjects. Math and History were not good. History, because much of it felt like it was somehow incorrect. I mean, wasn't history slanted toward however the Historian saw it? Isn't there just the smallest chance that there were other ways of seeing the same thing? I would learn more from historical novels when I grew older.

Think of a big, large, Huge, ENORMOUS Mental Block. I could add, subtract and multiply up to the ten's. The eleven's (yes, the ELEVENS) and twelve's were incomputable. Long Division and Short Division were incomprehensible. From there, it went from bad to worse....straight downhill. MATH was a "4-letter word!"

I was a Fifth Grade child....no more, no less. A bit excessive perhaps? Singing in Choir was my favorite activity. I was doing "Solos," with the choir behind me. Our voices rang and echoed so sweetly, so purely into every niche and alcove. The congregation became one with us. There, I could truly feel God. Not the "God of Abraham," who seemed an angry God, and not the God of the Catholic Church, who was enshrined in divine power and used it to keep people in line..... subservient, shrinking, fearful of the powers that could strike them dead, in body and soul. This was taught to us....to our tender, evolving consciousness. I believe that it is the Church's way to have power over us.

But singing, in that Holy Place, my soul reached out for my Father. Only then could I remember how good His love felt. It seemed that I could feel His breath and mine entwining. This is MY God....my Father....my Creator. I wanted to spend my life singing. Well, I couldn't do that, of course, so it was back to the reality that people here didn't know God.

It was early that year that I began to realize that Sister Estelle didn't react the way I expected. It was like she recognized something in me. She seemed to know that I needed something more than the automatic (and believed) answers that were given in class. She called me into her private office and proceeded to change my life.

In no uncertain terms, she told me that I could not ask questions like that in class. She said she knew, however, that the Church did not promote or appreciate "free thinking." There was someone, a priest, that she wanted me to meet. Sister Estelle was an AngelWorker. She introduced me to Father Osborn.

This man was to be one of the Helpers that my angels told me about. We took to each other upon sight, before even a word was spoken. There was recognition between us. Spiritually, he was my life raft. He showed me the way to get through this life I had chosen. To me, he was one of God's angels....right here on Earth. For the next three years, he would be my confidante, my spiritual teacher, and my mentor.

Aug. 12, 1998

Father Osborn took me in hand. He told me that he realized that I was a special child. Let me tell you, that didn't make me at ALL comfortable. When I asked him what he meant by "special," he said that every so often a child would come to this plane needing special guidance and particular respect. He said that most people come into the Earthlife experience with the "Veil of Forgetfulness." And, he told me that Idealists were some of these special people, because they remember how it should be, rather than how it IS. Did I tell you that this priest was a renegade?

He warned me that, since most people were born with the "veil," my questions and viewpoints wouldn't be readily accepted. I just couldn't figure out why I had to be different. Father Osborn said that it was because some people came here to be teachers and that I was here for that reason. A teacher? Me? But, I'm just a kid! How could I teach anybody anything??? He said that my job, at that time, was to learn how it IS here on Earth....to observe and keep my own counsel. Now THAT was a big order since I had a "motor mouth."

I could talk to and question him all I wanted. Needless to say, I did. When I talked to him about my concept of who Jesus REALLY was, he didn't laugh at me or call it blasphemy. I said that I thought Jesus was the SUN of God....an Avatar, a great teacher....and that Buddha and Mohammed and others were, too. Sun = Enlightenment. I said that yes, Jesus was also the Son of God, but weren't we ALL Children of God? No matter what our color or faith, weren't we ALL Children of God? His answer was, Yes.

When I asked him why people of different colors didn't get along, he told me that it was because people were afraid of anyone who was different than themselves. Why should that be so? It didn't make sense. We all have two eyes, two ears, two arms, two legs. We all have minds and the ability to communicate. Was it because we spoke different languages? He said that was only part of it, but a BIG part of it. He told me I would learn more about it by listening and observing. I asked how I could be here as a teacher if I had so much to learn? He said, "Teachers are always Students and Students are always Teachers." It was the way of things.

By this time, my Angels had made themselves known to me on more than one occasion. I asked Father Osborn if everybody saw and talked to Angels. He said that Angels were always hovering near EACH PERSON, but that most people weren't aware of them. It was a part of the "Veil of Forgetfulness." He said that most of the time a crisis-type of event had to happen before they became aware. I thought that was too bad, because Angels were really nice....and helpful. I told Father Osburn that once in awhile I would ask my Angels for this or that and they would answer me one way or the other. He said, "This is what is meant by "Ask and ye shall receive." He said, "You must ASK for their help before they can do anything. They may not interfere in our lives. We must ASK for their help."

These are just a few of the things that Father Osburn and I talked about during the three years we had together. The lessons that I learned from him have held me in good stead all of my life. He taught me to "Stop, Look & Listen." To this day, I bless Father Osburn for he was truly an "Angel embodied," who gave direction and substance to my life. He taught me that in order to be a "Light Giver," I must know when and where to shine that Light.

My shooling went on and I went to a public Junior High school, following my graduation from the Eighth Grade. It was a whole, different life experience. First of all, because I was coming from a parochial school, they put me into higher level math. BIG mistake! My algebra teacher, Mr. Warneke, nearly tore his hair out trying to teach me this "foreign language." When it came to math, I was a hard nut to crack. I just had some sort of a tremendous mental block about it. Language and grammar was a totally different thing. I excelled in those subjects. And, naturally, I continued my beloved singing. One thing I learned about public schools is that they didn't seem to care if a student learned or not. The information was given and that was that. I had a hard time with that because I was used to the rigid discipline of Catholic school and didn't know how to handle this "new found freedom." My grades plummeted the year of my Ninth Grade.

One of my favorite activities was roller skating and the Lynnwood Roll-a-Way Skating Rink is where I skated. I could be found there almost every Saturday and Sunday. Waltzing on skates led me to meet a young man there. I was only thirteen and he was eighteen....a MAN. He was in the Coast Guard and was SO handsome in his uniform. I was pretty "well-built" and carried myself in a mature fashion, so when he asked my age and I told him I was 15 he had no trouble believing it. He thought I was even older than that. He said that he was usually there on Friday nights, so I traded Sundays for Fridays. I was "in love." We met there on Friday nights for several weeks, then he asked me out on a date. Hoo, boy! How was I going to manage THAT one? My parents didn't allow me to date, yet. A special dance, at the skating rink, was coming up so I "tested the waters" by starting to talk about the really nice guy I had met. That was not a lie. For nearly two weeks, I talked about Buddy (his real name was Robert Edward Clark) on a daily basis. Pretty soon they were used to hearing about him and said it would be all right if I went to the dance with him, but THEY HAD TO DRIVE US and PICK US UP! Horror of horrors! How embarrassing! It was better than nothing, though. Buddy didn't think anything of it, much to my delight. My folks like him a lot and soon came to trust him with their precious daughter.... within certain parameters. Buddy was my very first boyfriend and we dated on and off all during my High School years.

High School was not an important time in my life. I squeaked through with barely passing grades. As per usual, I got either A's or D's, depending on the course. BOYS, dating, BOYS, dancing, BOYS, movies, BOYS, roller skating, BOYS, and my close friends were my only interests. I loved being showered with gifts....stuffed animals, records, jewelry and flowers. Most of these thing came from Buddy because I dated him more than anyone else. I didn't "make-out" or do much "petting" and was always "up front" about not being interested in such goings-on, that is except for Buddy. We got the car windows pretty steamy a few times, but kept in check. Believe it or not, I was a Girl Scout until I graduated from High School.

Singing was still my main love. All during High School I belonged to multiple singing groups, including our school's premier choir. My favorite High School teacher was Ed Aliverti, who was my choir director. Right from the start of my sophomore year, I was always a "First Chair" singer. That means that I was the leader of my section. In my sophomore year I was a first soprano. In my Junior year I was a second soprano. In my senior year, I was singing Alto. It was during my Junior year that I started smoking, so that probably explains the lowering of my voice.