My father comes back
I also noticed my mother amongst the people who came to say their last farewells to the mortal remains of my father.
Immediately after the ceremony, she came over to speak to me.
In the conversation which followed, another one of father’s predictions came true.
She indicated her desire to come and live with me, she would then be able to do my housework.
She did not doubt for a moment that we would get on very well together now that father was no longer there.
I was young, as she said, and so I knew what it meant to go out and have fun; I would be able to understand her better than father, who – only say good things of the dead – had a boring character, was seldom cheerful and preferred to sit with his nose in a book.
While she was talking, I had the chance to take a good look at her, how different she was to father, how harsh her features were and how cold her eyes appeared!
Even now she did not have a single good word to say about father, her attitude was in sharp contrast to father’s, he had spoken about her up until the end with love and full of forgiveness.
She was only out to please herself, and rough and rude, without thinking of my sorrow for a single second, she paved her way in order to reach her goal.
She asked what I thought of her suggestion.
With father’s words in mind, I told her briefly that I would not accept it.
She was silent for a moment, a menacing frown appeared between her eyebrows, but her voice still sounded as though she was superficially cheerful, when she replied that she could understand my attitude, father had blackened her name, of course.
Oh, she knew only too well how he had hated her, but she was certainly different to the way father had portrayed her, I would find that out very quickly, she had many friends in Amsterdam and The Hague and also here in Rotterdam, young, fun-loving people.
She would introduce me to them and we would have such fun.
After all, she was still my mother ...
She knew only too well how father had hated her and blackened her name. Ugh, how ugly she was.
I saw clearly how accurate father’s warning had been, she would try to control me completely in no time, draw me into her life and, even if I was to resist, it would mean an end to my peace.
‘It is out of the question, mother!’
Now that put an end to the simulated friendliness she had shown and she showed her true character.
Her voice sounded harsh and menacing, when she called out: ‘So you are throwing me out, whippersnapper.
Your own mother!
So are you sure of that?’
I did not answer her, I could have told her so many things, had she ever bothered about me, had she ever even insisted on seeing me?
Then she controlled her anger, it was as if she was remembering something.
‘Oh well then’, she said, ‘perhaps it is better that we do not live together.
We have not seen each other for such a long time.
But now a different matter, father is dead, I was his wife and so I have a share in the estate.
How much is the business worth?’
‘You have had your share, mother.’
I will spare you the details of the shouting which followed.
To put it briefly: she got hold of a solicitor, but all her trouble lead to nothing, her claim was turned down.
During the case, particulars about her present life were revealed, which were so terrible that I thanked father for his warning, because I would have ended up in a hell.
Two months passed.
After the first very emotional couple of months a peaceful time came along for me.
I kept on my housekeeper and servant.
It was very hard for me to get used to the emptiness which had come to the house and my life as a result of father’s death.
His books, his possessions, everything in the house reminded me of him and spoke of our friendship, which had resulted in such wonderful hours together.
The shop demanded my attention and I now blessed the fact that my father had already handed over the management to me at an early stage, so it was not strange to me.
I seldom went out in the evening, I usually read.
However, one evening, I suddenly got the feeling that I was not alone.
I had felt this before, but had not dwelled upon it.
The feeling became stronger and stronger, I could simply not escape it.
And suddenly I felt a cramp in my right arm.
I waved it about a few times, but the cramp stayed.
When I laid my arm on the table, it made rotating movements.
It did not help to resist it, the cramp became more and more severe.
A shock went through me, I could no longer escape it, I knew, as clearly as if I had been told, that father was here with me, and that he wanted to write through me, exactly as he had said before he passed over!
Shock, emotion, doubt went through me at that moment.
I looked for some paper and a pencil and went to the room where father had liked to spend time and where he had died.
I simply could not resist the influence and gave in to it completely.
Soon my hand started to write.
‘You are a fine one, Theo, letting me wait for so long.
Had you forgotten our agreement?
Do I have to tell you again: it is I, father!
How wonderful the time we were together was.
Now I am in Eternal Life.
Do you doubt that it is I?
Do you doubt that this writing is genuine, my son?
Believe me, Theo, follow your feelings, they will tell you that it is I, who is now next to you, and who is controlling your hand, your feelings do not lie.
It is wonderful, my son, to be able to talk to you like this.
The dead do not come back, they say, but we know better.
Oh, my son, I am so grateful to God for everything that I have received on this side, everything is so beautiful, so great and moving.
Now I am speaking to you ...
Have many of the things which I predicted not come true already?
I received that wisdom from the spheres of light, from Angelica.
You could be a good medium, Theo, and do something for humanity.
But then you will have to be open to our side and let go of all your doubts.’
‘You’re a fine one to talk’, I thought, when my first emotions had passed, ‘with the best will in the world, it is impossible to immediately believe that all of this is genuine.
After all, I know what is coming, is there any clearer piece of proof that it is I myself who is writing?!’
At this point my hand started to write again.
‘Have you forgotten the seance then, my son, where Angelica spoke as master Johannes about this method of contact?
I send what I write through you from my feelings to yours, as a result of this you know beforehand what will follow.
Nevertheless, it is not your own.’
‘So can you prove to me that you are my father?’
‘The proof will come, Theo, just be patient.
As soon as the time has come, you will get it, my son.’
However much my common sense resisted, my feelings told me clearly and distinctly that it was indeed father who was writing through me, I felt his presence, I recognized his language.
‘You must allow me a few evenings, because I want to tell you the most important parts of our life, especially about what I experienced myself.
I am supported in this, because in order to build up this contact, you need help, and knowledge is also needed for this.
Now as long as you just open yourself up to me.
You do not need to voice any questions, thinking alone is enough, since we are connected to each other’s feelings, I will receive them.
I assure you that what I am going to tell you is the sacred truth.
Or did it perhaps not come true what I predicted to the doctor, who laughed behind my back, with regard to my death?
But now I must finish.
I will continue later, we will just arrange the day and the time immediately, that is better.
What do you say to next Sunday, let’s say at eight o’clock in the evening?
And now goodbye, my dear son, goodbye, Theo.
My hand remained still and at the same time I felt father leaving.
I was alone again in my quiet room.
But ... had I not been alone all the time?
But was it not I myself who made my hand write?
For a moment I felt a twinge inside, what will father think of me if he feels me doubting like this?
If it was father, yes, if it was him.
A feeling of resentment came over me.
This must be clarified.
In the past we had been made fools of all too often by so-called spirits.
Of course beautiful, wise thoughts had come to us, but the number of times we were cheated was much greater, without us realising it.
Quite often it was very unclear who was speaking, a dark being, or a master, because the dark being sometimes also coolly claimed that he came in the name of God.
And then there was also the theory of the book which I had once read about gifted writing, the spirits did not write, but the medium himself, thereby drawing from his subconscious.
It would be a good idea to do some more reading on this subject.
The very next day I went to a book shop where I had been before and there I bought a few books on the subject.
They would have to tell me what I could believe and what I couldn’t.
The reading material was not easy, the many strange terms there confused me.
But I worked my way through it and with each page my trust in the phenomena I had experienced lessened.
These books also attributed them to self-deception by the medium.
They were said to come from the sub-conscious.
The thoughts and longings which lived in him, came out and revealed themselves as spirits.
Many phenomena were also stripped of their value by putting them down to telepathy.
No, there was very little left of everything which I had experienced in this area.
The books ended with the urgent warning never to take part in such seances, this would be unacceptable to God, since the devil was involved in this!
So Sunday evening came.
You now know how much I still believed in the supernatural phenomena with which I had come into contact over the years.
But the strange thing was that I still could not decide to leave paper and pencil this evening.
It became seven o’clock, half past seven and again, like a few evenings ago, the feeling overcame me that I was being worked upon by a power.
Sometimes I had to sigh, the influence was so oppressive.
And my feelings clearly told me that this was father who was letting me feel his presence.
It was then nearly eight o’clock.
The cramp in my right arm became more and more severe.
The clock struck eight when I reached for paper and pencil without a further thought and let my hand write freely.
‘You are a fine one, Theo’, father wrote.
‘Why did you start reading those books so impetuously?
Do you find it so strange that these books which came from the church, are so fiercely against the phenomena?
Now the poison in you has become even greater and it will be very difficult for you to believe anything else.
But, and I repeat to you, you must give me a few of your evenings.
Now my words are still falling on deaf ears, but later – I know that – you will understand everything, and then the words which I speak to you now will help you.
You will not refuse to give me your time, in the end, you love your father, and no matter what your common sense and your books tell you, your feelings, your intuition tell you that it is me who is writing here, and not you and your subconscious.
I will tell you so many things that everyone who reads about it, will feel that that wisdom could never ever come from you yourself.
If only you had left the books well alone, my son.’
‘And what about you, did you not read day and night yourself?’ I thought.
My father reacted immediately.
‘But I did not read that type of book.
You are still young and so you do not yet have the ability to see the difference.
You read books which came from the church and the church calls our contact the work of the devil.
We who represent the side beyond and see into the hereafter, we give an entirely different picture of God and His sacred laws than they do.
They count themselves and their followers as God’s chosen people, but we preach that God loves all His children and does not let one – not one single one, Theo! – become lost in purgatory.
There are innumerable ‘truths’ like this which the churches preach to their followers and which we have to attack and reject.
Its teachings give the churches power over the followers; can you now accept for one moment that the representatives of the churches will let go of those teachings?
No, my son, they will uphold them and place them higher than everything which we, living in God’s heavens, bring the people on earth as truth, even if that truth is more loving, more just and more realistic.
The churches would lose their hold over the believers, and so they forbid contact with our side, their spokesmen wreck the means which process this contact and call our revelations the work of the devil!
The book with which you were occupied today and which states the viewpoint of a scholar, also brands you a victim of suggestion, fantasy and deception.
But remember this, Theo, science is not yet at the stage that it will give up its dismissive attitude to occult phenomena, but one day, my son, it will also become occupied with research into this, in a serious way and without any prejudices – as many of the great scholars already do now – and it will have to see the reality of it.
No one will be able to close their eyes to the proof which the Side Beyond will give when the time is ripe, neither the theologists nor the scholars.
However, it is a pity that you have now poisoned your spirit with the opinions from these enemy camps and it will be more difficult for you than ever to believe in the truth of the phenomena.
But I am not really seriously worried about you, because one day you will also learn to believe and bow your head.
It is Angelica who gives me these happy pictures.’
With this last sentence, father answered a thought, which flashed through me, promptly: how he could knew all of this and could say it with such certainty.
‘The connection between Angelica and me is wonderful’, my father continued writing.
‘That was already the case during my life on earth.
I lived in two worlds then, my body was on earth, however, my spirit stayed in the world of Angelica.
She who is my soul, talked to me and put the words into my mouth, so that you and the doctor could listen.
I was elevated, as that is called.
You are not living in an elevated way while you write, you receive, but in your case everything also first goes through you, so that you know beforehand what will be written down on paper.
But how can you think for one moment that it is you yourself who is writing all of this, or that it could be the work of a mocking spirit.
What do you say to this?
When I had spoken in detail to the doctor two days before I passed away about earthly knowledge and intuition and about God’s powerful laws, you left me exhausted, I went to sleep immediately.
But I could have told you what the doctor said to you in the hallway.
He certainly found all the things I had to say remarkable, but could not see it as any more than the delirium of a dying man.
Yes, you are surprised at this, but it is really simple.
Angelica followed you and she was the one who told me the doctor’s point of view.
You see, that is spiritual connection.
In this way it is now possible for me to receive even your most secret thoughts, or the questions which you ask.’
‘What a fool I am’, it flashed through me.
‘How could I still doubt.
Here was father, he was writing, he drew straight from the wisdom of the Side Beyond and my books ... they knew nothing about this, they simply did not want to see reality, and ignored and mocked the phenomena and preferred to stupidly hold on to their small, illogical, confused conceptions.’
‘You are not a fool’, father now wrote.
‘I do not blame you for doubting’.
However, do not believe that now your doubt will suddenly disappear.
You do not get rid of those feelings so easily.
You will have to master the eternal truths with difficulty and conflict.
However, I will help you, or rather Angelica will do that, because she is a master on this side.
She was an medium on earth for many lives – and a good one, Theo – and she was connected to the masters.
She served and could meanwhile develop herself.
Just think about the wisdom which she passed on to us as master Johannes, and then that wisdom which she gave me when I was in my sickbed.’
‘You kept calling me Jack, father, and the doctor colleague, why did you do that?’
‘In a previous life on earth I was a doctor, Theo.
Now do not laugh, I am speaking the sacred truth.
In that life I got to know you, we were friends.
You were called Jack then.
Do you understand now why I longed to become a doctor in this life?
But it was not to be, I was here to make up for things.’
‘But father, if that is true, where did that knowledge go which you possessed as a doctor?’
‘Angelica says that the soul has to experience the new life upon birth on earth and that is why the past disappears.
When we awaken in the mother and during the time when we are growing into a child, the past in us disappears and the new life with its new laws takes its place.
It does continue to be a part of our consciousness, but it has then become feeling.’
‘So you were a doctor ... and we were friends then’, I reflected, and I almost said it aloud.
‘If it is true, it is wonderful, father.’
At this stage I remembered what father once said while he was ill about an idea of mine which he felt I should reject.
I wanted to find out, he explained then, what the soul really experienced at the moment when the body is torn apart.
I had remembered it vaguely. What did he mean by those words?
Was he delirious then?
Again it appeared to me how easy it is for a spirit to take over thoughts, because father immediately went into my question.
‘No, Theo, I was not delirious then either.
As I said then.
It is Angelica, who showed me those images, in past incarnations you already sought to find out what the soul experiences when it is suddenly torn from the body as a result of an accident, for example.
It appears strange to possess such a mania, but they do not laugh about it here in the spheres of light.
They know that we people will always follow the feelings which consume our lives and our whole being.
However, a person must know why he is searching in a certain direction.
Is it because of the study, as it was in your case, or, on the other hand, for sensationalism?
In the latter case, a person does not gain anything spiritually, but his development stands still.
I will give you the example of a group of people, who are likewise occupied with your problem, that is, inventors who stake their lives every day in order to give humanity something.
They are actually constantly preparing for their death.
They also have questions like this, what will happen if the invention on which they are working should become fatal.
They want to know where the life of their soul will then go.
If the longing to know this lives deep within a person, it will keep coming back to him, so that it becomes a part of the person, then it awakens laws, that means that one day, in a certain life, a person will be faced with the accomplishment of this longing, they will then experience the body being torn apart and the releasing of the soul with a shock; a person has then become the law himself.
You are still searching, Theo.
Just tell me, Theo, are you still trying to claim that all of this is from yourself?
Do you know anything about these laws?
I am not telling you nonsense, so accept my words.
What will it bring you?
What it brought me: awakening and divine happiness!
I thank Angelica for sending that woman to my path who brought me the books, as a result of which my eyes were opened.
I met her here, Theo, if you are interested, because also her time on earth was over.
If I had not wanted to read and had not asked for it, prayed for it, in order to be opened, then Angelica would not have been able to reach me.
However, now I have been able to enter Eternal Life completely prepared.
This was a mercy, I now realize, so great that I have no words to express my gratitude.
Angelica had already been waiting for me for a long time.
When she made contact with me, she cried like a child from sheer happiness.
And is that so incredible for a spirit?
Is that so strange that they can cry, really cry, have to cry from emotion and gratitude, because God is so good?
In Eternal Life we become like little children, Theo.
That is not strange or wrong.
Did Christ not say: ‘Whoever is like a little child, is the greatest in Heaven?’
The happiness which awaited me when I entered here ...
I want it for you, my son.
Angelica, who is sitting next to me, says: ‘Theo will make it, even if he still has doubts, he is also sweet!’
She loves you, Theo, we love you very much, my very own son.
And now I am going.
Be with you next Sunday, at eight o’clock.
Goodbye, my Theo.’
My hand remained still at this point, hot tears rolled down my cheeks.
I cried until my tears ran dry, father had moved me so much.
The happy feeling which came into me when father wrote the last sentences – a warm, rich feeling, which father and Angelica placed in me – overwhelmed me.
I was now like the child whom father spoke about.
I felt small, safe and secure in their love.
In my heart there was no place now for oppressive doubt, only faith, happiness and humility lived there.
I did not remain that child for long, in the sharp light of the new day my happiness lost its shine and doubt reared its ugly head again.
I suffered from that doubt and did everything to fight it, to rid myself of it, but it pierced my heart with a thousand stings.
I did not want to cause father and Angelica any sorrow, I wanted to believe in their presence, in their words, but my doubt prevented me from doing so.
I felt a complete wretch during that period and I cried bitter tears.
When I met the doctor once on the street and he asked me in a mocking voice whether father had already come back, I shook my head in the negative.
Ashamed, I moved away quickly.
I suddenly saw my father’s sweet face before me, it was sad and disappointed.
I felt as though I had betrayed him and Angelica.
The following Sunday evening father did not say a word to me about the events of the past week.
He surprised me with the following question: ‘Do you want to draw an axe for me, Theo, an ordinary axe, like we sell in the shop, a few simple lines will be enough.’
‘An axe?’ I asked in astonishment, not understanding what he wanted with that.
‘Wait, I will help you’, father continued and with a few quick pencil strokes an axe appeared on paper.
‘Did you want to do this drawing, Theo?
Did you have a single notion of doing this?
Now, just say yes or no?’
‘I wanted it, didn’t I?
Yes or no?’
‘Yes’, I confirmed and shrugged my shoulders.
But what did father want?
‘You will be even more surprised when you know what I want you to draw now.
A rope and a person who has hung himself on that rope!’
‘Yes, but what kind of strange thing is that, father?’ I uttered almost resentfully.
‘What purpose will that serve, or are you having me on?
Are you still there, father?’
‘Yes, my boy, don’t worry, you will soon know what I mean by it.
Just draw it now, it does not need to be nice, as long as it looks a bit like it.’
My hand drew again, now the person who had committed suicide on the rope, as my father had asked.
Again I asked father what the purpose of it was.
‘Do you still not understand it, Theo?
This is now the proof which I talked about before I passed over, do you remember?
You did not imagine an axe or a person who committed suicide by a long shot.
But I thought about it, I wanted you to draw that.
Can you still maintain that everything which is being written down here is your own thoughts?
Now go to the doctor and ask him for the sealed envelope, you will find a similar drawing in it.
Why did I draw that in particular?
Have you forgotten the person who committed suicide with whom we talked during our seances?
Have a good think about everything, there is good proof in it, if you wish to see it.
Now I have to stop, until next week, at the same time.
Goodbye, my Theo.
Angelica also sends her regards.
Father’s abrupt finish surprised me, I had to honestly admit that I would have liked to have carried on.
I did not get up immediately as I usually did, but let my hand lie there, reflecting on everything which father had said.
Suddenly my hand started to move again, made rotating movements and then wrote the following:
‘So, ugly whippersnapper, are you going to carry on again?
You just get yourself to bed immediately!’
‘Who are you?’ I asked.
The answer which came was:
‘Piet Hein, Piet Hein, of course.
We are old acquaintances.
Is your father not there?
Where is that old ironmonger?
I thought that you were always together.
Just look at that, haven’t you grown?
You are a big man, I have to say.
But as far as I am concerned you can go to ...’
I threw down the pencil and walked out of the house.
I wanted to be amongst people and forget about everything.
No more thinking and worrying.
When I came back home a few hours later, I was indeed a bit calmer.
I slept without thinking about anything anymore.
The following day my curiosity about the letter which father had written before his death and given the doctor to keep, got the better of me.
He looked sceptical when I asked him for the letter.
When I told him what had happened the previous evening, he could not help shrugging his shoulders mockingly.
‘I have my own opinion,’ he remarked, ‘but let’s just open the letter.’
A thin sheet of paper came out of the sealed envelope, on which an axe was illustrated with a man underneath, hanging on a rope!
The doctor had his opinion ready.
‘Look, Theo, that seems very special and striking now.
But it is not.
To me it is not any proof whatsoever.
After all, you knew, as well as your father, about the existence of that man who committed suicide.
The scientific standpoint must therefore be: when your father drew this, you took it over from him in a telepathic way.
‘But, doctor’, I interrupted him.
‘I did not know at all that father had drawn this!’
‘Right, but that was not necessary, you knew of the existence of that man who committed suicide.
Your father drew him on that piece of paper and at the same time – because telepathic transfer works infallibly – you took over his thoughts.
And they are those thoughts, which are now pictures, which suddenly came consciously to you again yesterday evening; after which your hand voluntarily recorded it.
Oh, Theo, I could give you fantastic examples of this, how sharply telepathic transfer is carried out.
They include examples which are more convincing than this, which happened to you.
No, just accept from me that you wrote down your own thoughts!’
So there I was again.
Here in the cold, light doctor’s surgery, opposite the business-like, assured voice of the doctor, I did not understand how I could ever have given in to that nonsense.
I felt that I had made a fool of myself.
Furious at myself, I tore up both pieces of paper.
‘You are right, Theo, just tear up that rubbish, it does not mean anything anyway.
And if I may give you a word of advice, do not try to find it too far from your own life.
You look terrible, pale, weak.
Release yourself from all those things and go into the country, get yourself out.
You are still so young, just enjoy life!’
He prescribed me a tonic and I went out his door determined to follow his advice and to keep away from all these problem, which led nowhere anyway.
I was obliged to do this in memory of my father.
I also agreed with the doctor about this, his life was too beautiful and too sacred to me, that I should sully it like that.
Months passed, in which I got out into the country a lot, spent hours in the big park, at the harbours and the lakes, and took long walks through the villages in the rural surroundings of the city.
In this period I became calm, I became healthy and all the misery and tension fell away from me.
These months were very important for me, in many respects.
I came to reflect.
In this period I could distance myself from the problems which had oppressed me for so long and as a result of this they lost much of their terror.
Gradually I started to see many things in a different light.
Since I was no longer so close to them, I was more capable of judging the events correctly.
I thought through everything, our seances with the lessons of master Johannes, the bungling way it came through, the often mean language of the mocking spirits, father’s long conversations, his sickbed, his contact with Angelica, the happiness, the wisdom, which he had been given by her, his predictions, of which one after the other came true, the piece of proof which he had wanted to give and in which neither the doctor nor I could believe.
No, I did not conquer my doubt completely, but I did learn to see in these important months that, with the doctor’s explanation, not nearly all the phenomena could be brushed aside.
During all that time I had not felt the need to write, there was also no outside influence.
But one evening, approximately a year after my father’s death, I got cramp in my right arm again.
With mixed feelings, I gave into it and let my hand go.
Even before one single letter appeared on the paper, I knew that father was there and Angelica was with him.
‘I have had to wait a long time, Theo, my dear son’, father started, ‘but now the right time has come for this.
Many things went through you, you have meanwhile dealt with a lot of things.
You can still not completely believe, however, nor can you doubt as completely as you did then.
It is a pity, it is a real pity that you tore up the proof which I gave you.
To you and the doctor it was all your own thoughts.
It is your right to think like that.
But if you want to hear my opinion, then I will tell you that you are thinking in the wrong way.
And the doctor along with you.
Did you know, Theo, the slightest thing about what I drew and put away in an envelope?
You knew nothing about it.
That was indeed true when I let you draw the axe and the man who committed suicide on the rope.
I connected myself to you then, we were one in feeling and I consciously inspired you to draw.
In this way both drawings were pure, genuine proof.
But do you want to know when you drew from your subconscious?
When the man who committed suicide started to write through you.
That first line came from your subconscious.
A moment later he did indeed write through you.
I had woken him by talking about him.
You drew him to you by thinking about him.
Although he is chained to the place where he committed suicide, it was still possible for him to write through you, there are no distances in this world.
I also ask you to listen to me for a moment.
You have to listen to me, even if it does not immediately mean anything to you and you seriously doubt it again.
It is necessary for you to know everything.
You only have to know it, there is no more to it.
I cannot tell you why, one day, however, you will know.
As everything here this also takes place for a particular reason.
Whatever the case, Theo, you learned from the events, they made you think.
I assure you that this ‘proof’ will prove useful to you one day.
This is the last time that I am writing through you.
If you could completely accept, could give yourself totally, this would not have to mean the end.
However, I must now make do with what I gave you and they are merely flashes of reality.
But it is enough, you will learn from it.
Now you will lead your own life.
Know that I love you and still want to remain father and mother to you.
You can always count on me, our bond will never be destroyed.
I also ask this of you: will you be careful about whom you commit yourself to?
Know what you are doing, think, gauge, feel, otherwise you will receive blows.
I cannot tell you anymore.
What else can I tell you?
My heart is full of you, full of love for you.
Angelica also wants to tell you something.
I am going back, Theo.
God will give me a task, I will give myself to it completely, give everything I have to give, and my work will then be blessed.
God grant you, that you gain respect for His sacred matters.
Be good, my dear son!
Greetings from your father.’
My hand remained still for a moment, then she wrote:
‘Dear child of God, I also come to greet you and then go back there.
Now, at the point that you are entering a full life, great problems are probably waiting for you, I will tell you the following.
In all circumstances, remember the serious words which your father just gave you.
Think when you act, always ask yourself whether you are doing the right thing in what you do.
I advise you, tune into the life of your father, follow it and, like him, you will gain respect for the life of God, you will want to serve and give, so that you will not enter Eternal Life here with empty hands.
Father says to you: May God lead your steps and may He protect you against all the low things in a person.
It is difficult to describe the feelings to you, which went through me after their farewell.
I read and reread the paper on which their words of farewell were written, it became of sacred meaning to me.
‘Tune into your father’s life.’
Yes, I would definitely do that, more so than I had done the past few months.
I realized now more than ever what I still had to change, if I wanted to become like father, if I wanted to get his faith, possess his love and his respect for the word of the Side Beyond.
Only now did I understand extremely clearly how I had pushed father, who had kept coming back to me, away from me with all my doubts.
And only by listening to my voice of reason and smothering the voice of my feelings ...
I foresaw a long battle, because even now, in this moving and significant hour, I heard that hateful voice within myself, which tauntingly clearly asked how I could be so sure that it was really father who made my hand write ...
Then I went down on my knees and begged God to make me see.