A Message through the Phone Lines

My sister was two years older than I and probably my biggest supporter when I began to read for people outside my friend and family circle. She was quite proud of me and because of this gave out my phone number to complete strangers.

I recall this incident with agonizing clarity. I, in the midst of doing laundry, when Mary called me up giggling in her usual mischievous tone. "What did you do this time, Mar?" I asked her. A guy that she was seeing had a father that wanted a reading and Mary gave him my home number. She told me he was going to call in a short while and his name was "M". Reticent about the whole thing I expressed my reservations, but agreed none-the-less.

Image me knee deep in dirty laundry and alone in the basement praying out loud. I asked God to send me a spirit guide that would talk loudly and slowly to me. And if I couldn't hear them to repeat things that were important three times as an indicator that whatever it was I would take notice of it and convey to the receiver.

The phone was propped on top of the dryer and with each armful of laundry I continued to pray. There was no time to meditate because I had young children upstairs that would want my attention the minute I returned to them. My dear husband watched them as I readied myself downstairs.

When the phone rang, I jumped. A foreign speaking man introduced himself to me and said my sister advised to call. It was if I was listening in on a party line. Although I didn't audibly hear his wife, I could see her in my mind's eye. As he spoke, she began to show me the interior of his small apartment. The dingy tweed couch, the kitchen and a piano. I asked him if his wife, "V" was played the piano. He chucked and said,"Yes. She loved to play." She took me to the kitchen and showed me a hard pastry in her hands, "Yes," he confirmed, "She was a wonderful cook and loved to bake. No-one could bake as well as she could."

I could hear his wife laughing and wondered why. Then she focused on his feet. She showed me big holes in his socks. Not sure what to make of it I just gave the information to him. Surprisingly enough and he agreed, "Yes I have holes in my sock because he used to buy all my socks. I haven't bought any since." I chuckled, along with her, in my head. "M" accepted the informatin rather nonchalantly and permitted me to carry on. His wife conveyed the name, Maria and I asked him he if he recognized it. He acknowledged Maria to be his recently deceased sister. As he acknowledged her, she came through in my thoughts. A very lovely lady with dark hair and eyes. She wanted to talk "M" to a room where there was a dresser and in the dresser in a top draw under some white lacy garment was a card with a rose on it. He knew about the dresser but was unsure about the card. I also showed him a thick gold necklace that she wanted him to have.

During the reading I kept hearing the name DeSilva. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"No," he replied repeatedly, "Nothing." I could sense frustration on the other side that he did not accept the information but continued.

I saw a wallet full of money and conveyed it to him. At first I thought it was my wishful thinking that he might offer to pay me for my time. But that was not the case. He advised me that he was designing some sort of palm electronic device that was going to revolutionize the computer industry. He talk about stocks options and money investments coming his way. Maria practically yelled DeSilva at me, to repeat to him, and I did. Again, a very emphatic, "No."

My husband came down an hour later and gestured to me that it was time to stop. I had to agree with him. I was going in circles with this man and nothing more was being said.

About two days later I received an unexpected call from "M". I was busy with my children and somewhat perturbed that he would assume I would take another call from him without first agreeing to it. I found it very inconsiderate and rude. But as the powers that be, I started receiving messages for him anyway.

He told me he found the necklace and the birthday card he had received from his sister, prior to her passing, and wanted me to give him more.

His wife "V" came through and was laughing again. She presented to me a pair of black shoes that were actually painted brown. I started to chuckle and gave the information to him anyway. What did I have to lose. He paused for a second and confessed, "Yes, I painted my shoes because I needed a pair of brown shoes and I didn't want to buy new ones." I couldn't believe my ears. I could hear her laughing on the other side again and told him she was laughing. I guess he didn't take kindly to her laughing because he sounded annoyed.

I was interrupted and heard the name of DeSilva again and at this point in time I wasn't to worried about what he thought. He wasn't too worried that I had children and life also. So as a last attempt I asked him. "Who is DeSilva?" Sounding irritated at me, he replied, "I don't know any DeSilva's" He paused briefly to add. The only DeSilva I know of is my sister, Maria. Her last name was DeSilva. I though I wanted to drop the guy. I could hear a cheer on the other side and I dropped my head in disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me?" I said to him. I have been asking several times about DeSivlva and only know you can associate it to your sister?" I guess my aggravation was coming through in my tone because he quietened up. My husband came in the room very aggitated and shook his head. John whispered, "this is my day off and my time with you and the kids." I totally understood Johns frustration and said goodbye to "M".

There was only one other time "M" called me and my husband intercepted the call. He told him I was out. What I would like to impart is here is that even psychics deserve consideration for scheduling and person time.

I have only read over the phone twice and both times were very successful, which I am pleased to report.

Love and Light

Anne ^i^