Lincoln

Lincoln

After reaching the top of the stairs, my attention remains acutely focused on a shiny cylindrical object; this object, in the hands of the young male spirit who had a moment ago invited me to join him. I struggle to identify it, as I stated, it is cylindrical and shiny similar to polished metal. It appears to be about six inches in diameter and roughly eight to nine inches in length. I also see a small hole seems to run through the cylinder indicating that the interior is hollow.

The young male spirit places the object in my hands and says, “Here, hold this for me”. He then vanishes, leaving me to inspect further the object that has now gained a new importance. I roll it around in my hands and as I do, a lid appears on one end of it. I unscrew the lid, immediately a dense, white mist flows out of the cylinder, this mist begins to fill the landing at the top of the stairs that I am standing on. Moreover, I become very well aware that the floor beneath my feet begins to erode and dissolve into an empty space, a black hole.

Now, I find myself surrounded by a thick white mist, teetering on the edge of a large black hole. I can do one of several things, I can step off the landing, wait to fall through the void in the floor, or I can run back down the stairs. It is a no brainer for me, why run, what could I possibly gain from that, a missed opportunity to be of service? I will accept the invitation extended to me. The mist becomes thicker and begins to engulf me; I lose sight of the physical aspects of my home and am now certain I am standing in the deep dark void that was once my floor.

The dark surface beneath my feet feels different, like thin, delicate glass. I am almost afraid to breathe for fear whatever it is I am standing on will shatter. Vulnerable would be the best word used to describe how I feel at this moment. I place the lid onto the canister as I watch intently, a human form, a shadow figure move toward me through the mist, which begins to dissipate. I can only see details of this male spirit from the waist down. Dark beige pants that are much too long for him and bare feet are what I see. From the waist up, a dark shadow outline of what would have been. The spirit stops a good six feet away from me and without speaking, only with a hand gesture, he indicates to me that he wants me to follow him, so I do.

As I walk, I am aware of every step I take, I feel as if I am walking in slow motion and my legs feel very heavy. I look down at my feet to see that I am wearing tall rubber boots. I am standing in thick mud; I can only see what is around my feet; everything else at this time is black. The longer I stand in one spot the farther down my feet sink. With great resistance, I make the effort to move forward, pulling my feet out of the deepening mud. By now, the water is to the top of my boots, and I am able to see grass, tall grass rising up from the water.

I look up from the soggy, swampy, muddy water to see the male spirit, still his top half in shadow, walking toward me. The area I am standing in slowly illuminates, allowing me to see my surroundings, to see the purpose of my visit. I am aware of the sound of frogs, many frogs croaking as well as the hum of a copious amount of bugs buzzing around my head and I can feel the sting of mosquitos biting me. I am sweating profusely, its humid and very hot, the air is thick making it difficult to breathe.

I have reached my destination; I now know why I am here. The male spirit stands a mere three feet from me now, pointing toward the water. I see legs, bare legs and feet. It seems that the upper torso of the body is submerged face down in the water. The torso appears covered with foliage or non-existent; consumed by wild life. This is why I am unable to see the upper portion of this spirit, why his torso is in shadow. It is now time for me to speak to the male spirit, I must ask him, “What do you want me to know?”

The male spirit points down, down to the water and the partially exposed legs visible amongst the grass and mud. He places his hands in prayer position; He is asking me to pray for him, I do. When I have ended my prayer, I become aware of a small red flag on a short stick, the flag is placed on the exposed body, indicating that it has been marked, found, noticed. He shows the remains of his body recovered with images of a medical facility or morgue.

“I matter, I lived, please remember me, and pray for my soul!” This is what he asks of me, this is why he came to me. The male spirit thanks me, fading as he moves farther away. I become aware of the fact that I am still holding onto the cylinder, I believe that it could be his urn. As I thank the universe for the opportunity to serve, I find myself once again standing at the top of my stairs, still with the urn in my hands. I simply do not know what to do with it. Suddenly the thought of symbolically placing it as a marker in my memorial garden occurred to me, and I ask the male spirit to assign a name to himself. I unscrew the lid to the urn and rather than an emerging mist, a rolled up piece of paper and a rosary slid out, the paper is blank. I place the rosary around my neck and ask for assistance in assigning this male spirit a name.

I place my hands on each side of the paper in hopes a message or name will appear. I simply could not refer to this loving spirit as John Doe or male spirit. To my surprise, a shiny copper penny fell from the paper, landing at my feet. I pick up the penny and while inspecting it become acutely aware of the face of the president embossed on the bright circle of copper, Lincoln. Wow, could his name really be Lincoln, I was certain it was not copper or penny. Thank you Lincoln for sharing your story, I will honor your memory, I will pray for you. A stone bearing your name and a bright shiny copper penny will rest in my sacred memorial garden.

Gale Stein
Author
Clairvoyant Psychic Medium

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