My father

The wooden box stood on the table and our hands kept in touch with the object.
The wooden box would start to shift by itself.
To the left means ‘no’ and to the right ‘yes’.
It could not be simpler.
At first, we had a good laugh but soon we were anxious.
What would happen?
Would the box really move to and fro?
It was not long before the box moved back and forth.
We all thought that the others made it move, yet we felt something peculiar come into the wood, it was as if it vibrated.
It moved rapidly over the table but nobody at that time dared ask questions.
Then I asked: “Is there life?”
The others started laughing.
Carlo said: “Do you not live, Alonzo?”
“You are right, Carlo, my question is not clear, I must ask something else.”
“Do you see, Alonzo, that the box seems to wait?”
“The box listens, Alonzo, it is sensitive and waits for another question.”
Now I said to the wooden object: “If you want to, go to the left, which means ‘no’.
To the right then means ‘yes’.”
I asked new questions:
“Is there life after death?”
“Yes”, the box answered.
“Well, what did I tell you”, Carlo said sarcastically.
“Is there life or is there not?”
Juan asked: “Well, Alonzo, are you not happy now?”
“Now do remain serious for a moment, do me that favour, maybe we shall get a little wiser through that box.”
Again, I asked: “Are you a human being?”
“Yes”, it answered,
but Carlo continued: “Have you seen God already?”
“No”, the box said.
“You see, Alonzo, the box is serious.”
“You may feel and think what you want, Juan, but there is something the matter with the box.
I cannot tell you what it is, but it is as if the wood lives, as if there is movement in it.”
“Neither of us have seen God”, Carlo answered the box. “We seek and go on seeking.
I would indeed like to know on behalf of Alonzo, it is necessary for him, otherwise, he might lose his senses.”
“No”, the box said, and was now beyond our control, for it tore away from under our hands and banged on the floor.
“Well, what did I tell you, Alonzo?” Carlo scoffed.
“It gathers momentum and develops character.
Now let us ask more questions.”
I asked: “Is there no hell?”
The box remained where it was and I thought I understood and asked again: “Is there an eternally burning hell?”
We stopped for a moment to discuss the situation.
Geraldo said: “Those are our own desires, Alonzo.
You do not want an everlasting hell and that is why the box said no.”
“But where did this sudden power come from, Geraldo?”
“The chest tore off the table because of our trembling, Alonzo.”
“That is nonsense, Juan, I do not tremble, why should I?
Let us try again, but remain serious this time.”
When we had put our hands on the box, it moved to the picture of my Father.
I did not understand it at all, but suddenly I thought I felt it and asked: “Do you know that person?”
“Yes”, the box said.
“Do you know that he is my Father?”
“Yes”, it answered and at the same time the box moved up to me and forced itself upon me.
The very moment when the box moved up and touched me I had a thought and said to my friends: “Now listen to me,
I have an idea.
What about writing down the ABC and making a pointer so that letter by letter can be indicated, next we stop and make sentences.”
They thought it a splendid idea and we made something similar.
The alphabet was clearly legible.
Juan and I held the pointer.
At once, it rushed over the table and in a circle searching for the letters.
Geraldo was to write everything down.
We soon received: “I am your Father, Alonzo, do not scoff at this possibility of communicating.”
None of us knew what to say, but the pointer spelled: “Do it alone, Alonzo.
Sit down and I will try to write through you.
The others cannot accept it and you will not make any progress.
Sit down, my boy.”
I did what my Father – if he was my Father – wanted me to do and sat down.
My hand began to move beyond my control; I had lost control over my arm.
When I had written for quite a while my hand stopped by itself and we deciphered the text.
I read: “My child, my Alonzo, there is no death, there is only life, eternal life.
Go on, Alonzo, I shall come again and we will do so at regular intervals.
Enough for today.”
We could not decipher the other letters, but this was clear.
My friends thought it very interesting but could not accept it.
Next, they left.
When I was alone I tried again, but my hand did not write.
I felt that I had to wait until the next evening.
At that hour, something happened that frightened me very much.
I was thrown off my chair and rolled over the floor.
Yet I did not give up and sat down again.
This time it went better and my hand wrote.
This writing occurred beyond my control.
A different power guided my hand and that power was so enormous that I had no control over my own limb anymore.
It was therefore clear to me that my arm was being guided.
That power was conscious, it wrote so it could think.
I remained perfectly conscious and was aware of what I experienced.
I did not care whether an angel or Satan himself wrote, someone actually did write.
I need not doubt, these phenomena were real and I therefore surrendered completely.
I could follow the writing, though it went amazingly quick.
I continued writing until midnight when my hand stopped.
I looked at what my hand had written
and read the following:
“What on earth are you seeking, Alonzo?
It is so very near you, for you live in it.
As I said before, I live, and I am your Father.
However, there are many more human beings present here. All of them died and they make it difficult for me.
Your Mother is worried and she discusses it too much with her priest.
You must allow me to come back to you again when you may ask questions.
I will try to answer all your questions, Alonzo.”
I did not read any further, I sat down at once and asked: “Is it you, Father?”
My hand wrote: “Yes, Alonzo, I am your Father.”
“Can you prove that to me?”
“You love animals, Alonzo.”
“Yes, that is correct.
Can you give me additional proof that you are my Father?”
“Your brother Geraldo is here with me and he died very young.”
“That is also correct, Father, it is perfectly true, I believe it is you.
Can Geraldo say something?”
“No, not yet, maybe later on.”
“May I ask a few more questions?”
“Yes, Alonzo, do not hesitate to go on.”
“Why is it, Father, that there is such an immense yearning in me to be allowed to know more about all those wonders?”
“You are conscious about those things, Alonzo.”
“But where did I get this consciousness from?”
“From your many lives, Alonzo, we have been on earth repeatedly.”
“I beg your pardon, Father?”
“We spend many lives on earth, so not just once.”
“Your language is very clear, Father, and I am most happy.
May I ask some more questions?”
“What are they, my boy?”
“Is there a hell?”
“Yes, Alonzo, there is a hell but it is different from what the church says.
Tell this to your Mother, she must know too.”
“She will not accept it, Father.”
“That does not matter, Alonzo, as long as you tell her.”
“And is there a purgatory, Father?”
“That is here too, Alonzo.”
“Just as we are being taught?”
“No, it is different, there is darkness there.”
“How interesting, Father. Do you know how happy I am?”
“I have been with you for a long time, Alonzo, but you did not feel or see me.”
“Could I acquire that?”
“No, not yet, but I am always here and I will help you.”
“What do you do there, Father?”
“I have got my tasks here as well, Alonzo.
I cannot be idle.
I help many people proceed so that they can start their own lives.”
“That is wonderful, Father.
And Geraldo?”
“I do not see Geraldo all the time, just once in a while, for he has his own tasks too.”
“Have you met your Father?”
It proceeded very rapidly now and he answered through my hand: “Yes, Alonzo, my Mother too, she has been very nice to me.
I have also met my friend who had an accident. Mother told you about it, he is often with me.”
“It is miraculous, Father.
What should I do,
speak with Mother?”
“Do not hesitate to talk about it, but she must know herself whether she will accept or not, that does not matter, do talk about it.”
“She wants to free me from all my feelings, Father.”
“I know, Alonzo, but you must know yourself what you want and how you want to live your life.”
“That is clear, Father.”
“Do not forget, Alonzo, these matters are very serious.”
“What do you mean, Father?”
“There will be times which are very gloomy and then there will be danger.”
“For me?”
“Yes, for you and your friends, Alonzo.
But rest assured that it is I who talks to you now.
You must accept that you are connected with reality, Alonzo. There should be no doubt in you; otherwise, you will be in a tight spot.
We must stop now, for others will come, they are unnatural and will bring you lies and deceit.
Goodbye, my boy, goodnight.”
Yet I tried again and this time my hand wrote.
I was startled when I read what had been written.
It said that my friend Juan had suddenly died.
I ran away and wanted to visit him to convince myself.
I found him in his room.
He was alive.
Yet, I read out to him what my Father had said.
“So you see, Alonzo, I still belong to the living, but what is said is very clear.”
My enthusiasm had all at once been dulled,
but I did not give up yet.
I went home, and in the morning, I spoke to my Mother about it.
“You should listen to me, Mother.
You know what I do.
I received messages from Father; he lives and is all right.
There is no death, Mother, there is only life and that life goes on.
Neither is there hell and purgatory, as the clergy believe.
It is miraculous, Mother, how clear it is what Father had said.”
I waited for an answer.
She looked at me in a cool and stern way and said: “I will leave here if you do not stop these devilish doings.
I do not want to hear anymore about it. Do you understand?”
I knew enough now but I did not want to give up.
The next evening I sat down again and waited.
Soon my Father began to write again and he said to me: “Mother does not want to hear about it, does she, Alonzo?”
“Do you know about it?”
“I was in the room, Alonzo, and I heard you talking to her.”
“She cannot be reached, Father.”
“No, Alonzo, and she will talk it over with her priest.
Are you afraid of the church, Alonzo?”
“No, Father.
May I ask questions?”
“Yes, my boy.”
“Who wrote through me that my friend had died?”
“You should not have sat at the table again, Alonzo.
I warned you against lies and deceit but you did not listen to me.”
“So it was not you?”
“No, Alonzo.”
“Are you happy, Father?”
“I am very happy, Alonzo.”
“Are you there with others, I mean here in my room?”
“Yes, very many want to write but that is not right.”
“Do you know God?”
“Yes, but in a different way than the human beings on earth know Him.”
“In what way then, Father?”
“God is invisible, yet God is known by His work.
We human beings, the animals, light and darkness and the universe, all of that is God.”
“Have you become a heretic, Father?”
“That is the danger, Alonzo, and that danger is very great.”
“Now I understand you, Father, you are very clear.”
I did not know what more to ask and yet there were so many questions in me.
My Father wrote: “You had better stop now, Alonzo, and go to sleep, you are tired.”
But I could not detach myself and asked: “Tell me something about your new life, Father.”
“All of you will arrive in this land, Alonzo.
You will go either to the darkness or to the light.
But that is up to you.
Always seek the good and you will see the light.
Do not deviate from this way, Alonzo, but do know why you go on.
When hard times come you must know what you want all the same.”
“What does this mean, Father?”
“You may experience hard times, my boy, but be sure that I will help you.
You shall see me here again, Alonzo.
God is just and he is Love;
so, do not do bad things if you want to see and receive the light.
Be particularly careful with the church, Alonzo, only with the church.”
“Why are you so anxious, Father?”
“As I said, hard times may develop.
And now go to sleep.”
“Will you come back to me, Father?”
“Just once more, Alonzo. After that, I will not be able to come to you anymore. However, there is someone with me here who will write through you, but tomorrow.
Now go to sleep, Alonzo, I greet you, your Father.”
I discussed all these wonders with my friends, but they could not accept them,
much to my regret.
Juan could not accept them either; just that one message had deprived him of all faith.
I asked him: “And what about what was said in respect of the church, Juan?”
“What should I say about that, is there really danger?”
“Not yet, but it may come.”
“Just be careful, Alonzo, you go too far.
You should not have discussed it with your Mother.
She talks about it.”
“I am already a heretic as far as she is concerned, Juan. Nevertheless, I will go on.
I am not afraid for I know now that I am connected with reality.”
“Do you want us to publish this letter, Alonzo?”
“Oh yes, please do, Juan, but do not put a name under it.”
“Alright, I will see to that.”