The Mystery of the Falling Books: A Family Secret Revealed | engelchanneling®
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◆ The Shadow Over Her Shoulder ◆
The phone rang. An acquaintance was on the other end of the line. She told me that she had moved and since then, she claimed, she had a real haunting problem. She needed my help to get to the bottom of it. She asked if I would help her.
I asked her to tell me the story.
"Well, it was like this: Peter and I finally moved in together. We found a small but nice apartment in the neighboring town. Since we’ve been living there, strange things have been happening. Books are constantly falling out of the cabinets. No matter how I stack them, shortly afterward they are lying on the floor. At first, I suspected Peter was trying to play a prank on me. But last weekend we were out together, and when we came home, the books were lying on the carpet again. This time I knew for sure it couldn't be him. I then wondered if there was an animal in the apartment. Or if the landlord has a key and is playing a joke. Believe me, all sorts of things go through your head."
"So I put the books back. Hardly were they back on the shelf when one fell out again right before my eyes. It made no sense. So I grumbled to myself, bent down, and picked it up. While I was doing that, another stupid book fell right on my head."
"You know I'm tough and not easily rattled. But it can't go on like this. Maybe it has something to do with Peter's ancestors? The apartment is a new building, so it can't be related to the structure itself."
"I thought, therefore, we could drive to the village cemetery and research the old graves of his family. I don't know why, but it would be a start. We can't ask his family; they don't react well to stories like this. I've already tried that."
We agreed to meet the next afternoon.
The next day we strolled across the said cemetery, and Sandra looked closely at every tombstone and its inscription. When she was almost finished, I stood a bit apart and mused about why the cemetery was divided into different sections. Upon checking, I found that these remote graves were reserved for people of faiths other than the locals. It occurred to me—perhaps it had nothing to do with Peter's relatives at all? Maybe we had to look at this from a different perspective.
Suddenly I turned in Sandra's direction. Without thinking about why I was doing it, I asked the following question: "Who is standing behind Sandra?"
Instantly, I saw an older man behind her. He wore a light blue checkered shirt and fabric trousers. Almost leaning against Sandra, he looked curiously over her shoulder and read along with the inscription on the gravestone in front of them.
◆ The Data Stream from a Soul ◆
Within a very short time, I received a vast amount of knowledge about this man. I felt like a computer receiving massive input and countless data points about this soul in an indescribably short period.
He was a very alert, interested person who also possessed a sense of humor and had something to clear up. In no way did I feel a sense of fear. This man standing there was clearly recognizable to me as a soul. Yet, he was too human for me to have felt threatened. While he had the appearance of a normal person, his body looked glassy and did not possess the density that we living beings have. It was immediately clear to me what was happening at that moment, and I blocked it. I had never experienced it quite like that before, and it unsettled me. I had to mentally weigh this new experience first.
I strolled slowly and confusedly toward my friend.
Chaos reigned in my head: "Should I tell her about it? Will she think I'm crazy? How should I tell her? And who was he, actually?"
Sandra noticed my confusion immediately and pressed for answers. I remained silent at first, explaining only that I was lost in thought. But she didn't believe me, as she knew me very well. So, I had no choice but to enlighten her about the circumstances. Everything just poured out of me.
Sandra stood there helplessly, and tears filled her eyes. "I know," she said, "this is about my great-grandfather! I always had the feeling he was with me, even though I was never allowed to meet him!"
Because of Sandra and the positive, friendly demeanor of this ghost, I slowly opened up again.
We got into the car and drove toward home. That was when the spirit spoke to me.
I did not see him then, but I had already felt his presence earlier. He said to me: "You must please help me! I have had something important to clear up for a long time! I am Sandra's grandfather."
At first, I was overwhelmed. Nevertheless, I felt in my innermost being that I had to help him too. It is not only humans who require my help; no, I had to help this poor spirit as well. For this reason, we drove to Sandra's mother at the grandfather's request.
Arriving at her place, we began to cautiously touch upon the subject. Somehow, such topics are always very delicate. You never know how people will react to something like that.
Sandra's mother was very open, so I could tell her everything and passed on what the spirit said to me. I was the interpreter, so to speak. He talked to me, and I passed on what was said:
◆ The Gift Within the Pages ◆
"My child, I am sorry from the bottom of my heart. Please understand, I could not act differently back then. My hands were tied. I love you very much!"
Sandra's mother looked at me, and tears ran down her cheeks until a whole stream poured heart-wrenchingly over her face. She was happy and touched, but also sad.
Over and over, she murmured: "I knew it wasn't true. I knew it!"
Curious about her words, Sandra and I asked for more details. Her mother told us something she had never discussed with anyone in her family or among her friends. Her grandfather had two children: her father and her uncle. Her father had "only" two daughters, while the uncle fathered sons. Yet the grandfather loved his granddaughter above all else. He truly did not have an easy life, but he was a friendly man—kind, humorous, and curious about what the world held within it.
However, he was also bound by the etiquette of that era. Therefore, despite all the love he felt for his granddaughters, he could not bequeath them any personal belongings. Everything was inherited by the uncle's sons as the male successors.
As a young woman and even as an older adult, she didn't understand any of it and doubted the love he had claimed to have for her during his lifetime. Because of this old custom, the family had to lead a rather modest existence. But now she seemed to understand and finally found her peace.
The grandfather was present throughout the telling. Even though the others could not see him, they felt him.
He asked me one last time to communicate something to Sandra's mother.
"Tell her: The book she received is a greater gift than she thinks."
Dazed, Sandra's mother looked at me. A few seconds later, she ran into a small room in her apartment. We followed her.
In this room stood a small chest of drawers, which she opened from the top and rummaged through. Without a word, she pulled out a medium-sized box and opened it in front of us. Inside, there was indeed a book.
She held it up and said solemnly: "This book is the only thing I ever inherited from my grandfather. Because of my disappointment over this impersonal gift, I stowed it in this box from the very beginning and never touched it again."
She flipped curiously through the book.
The book stayed open by itself at one point while she was flipping. There, a square had been neatly cut out of the pages. Inside this square was a small object wrapped in light brown tissue paper.
Sandra's mother carefully took it out and unfolded the paper. A noble gold ring with the grandfather's seal appeared. We were amazed and all deeply moved. What we experienced was too incredible for words.
The spirit disappeared silently. Everything had been said.
