FROM childhood I had loved and worshipped “That Something” that answered my childish prayers. The name GOD even was not enough to express Him. So in my anguish, when mother was buried, I turned again to Him and asked, if He really existed, to show me that my mother was not dead; that there was something to “grow” and hope for.

A friend had happened to mention to me that she had had the best time on Sunday afternoons with the Ouija Board—that it was loads of fun, and why didn’t I try it? Because I was at the end of my strength, I tried the board, and it worked. It wrote that Love was writing me the messages and that the ground I walked on was Holy.

I tried to take the messages with a grain of salt, and it came back at me strong, saying that Love was the law, and that since I was on earth to fulfill the law, I should listen and hear the voices.

The force giving me these messages first would tell me something in my mind, and then to verify that I had really heard its voice in my mind, it would write it out. I had no idea while it was writing just what it would say.

Please do not think I am out of my mind—all this actually happened, and I am in my sound mind. It gave me wonderful, beautiful messages; it explained what angels were; what Heaven was; what God was and is; how to live each minute fully and to see the beauty in everything. It interpreted the birds’ songs to me; it spoke in parables, and at times told me things that happened a few hours later.

After I had learned how to hear the voice, it would speak to me, and I could hear it telling me wonderful things in my thoughts—things that I was incapable of thinking up by myself. Finally I asked that this force reveal itself to me—who it was, man, woman, spirit, deity or what? It wrote in reply—“I am Jesus!”

For awhile I felt stunned, and could not believe it; for I did not feel such a presence. While the pencil wrote for me I felt a presence, but not one so Holy as that. It seemed as though some other person was teaching me all these things.