Angel in the Basement
By Judy Cosgrove
After months of waiting to close and lots of hard work remodeling, our retirement home in a nearby 55+ community was finally ready. This was our third home and we expect it to be the last in our 46 years of marriage. Hanging the family photo collage on the living room wall brought back wonderful memories of our previous homes. Our first was a row home in downtown West Chester, Pa., where we spent five years. Our second, where we lived for 41 years, was a suburban home surrounded by wonderful neighbors near our parish church. Along with raising three children and caring for three dogs and two cats, we were also fortunate to welcome two grandchildren into our lives during those years. It was a special memory now from this second home that I was focused on while studying my photo collage and realizing how quickly the years slipped by.
It started out as a typical Sunday in our suburban home that spring day in 1973. My two boys, Michael, age six, and Steven, age four, were in the yard playing with their new friends. My husband Bill was out for the afternoon, and my seven-month-old baby girl, Lisa, was happily rolling around the kitchen floor in her walker as I did some chores. This was such a happy time in my life with my young family, my husband, our new home in the suburbs, with so much to look forward to.
I was tidying up the first floor early in the afternoon and then went to the basement to gather trash from my laundry room. After that chore, I came up the steps, went through the kitchen, and then outside and around the garage to empty the trash. Just as I opened the trashcan lid, I was struck with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as a thought entered my mind. Did I remember to close the basement door before walking through the kitchen and outside? I quickly justified this terrifying feeling by saying to myself, “I would never have left that door open with Lisa in her walker!” I uttered a prayer, “Please God, if I did, send help for my baby”! My legs turned to jelly and fear was rampant within me as I walked back into the house to find baby and walker missing from my kitchen. Sure enough my worst fear was true; the basement door was wide open.
I stood at the basement doorway looking down the steps to the concrete floor, and there at the bottom was Lisa’s walker. But where was Lisa? I ran down the steps, turned the corner, and there in the middle of the floor was my baby girl—rather far from the stairs. She appeared to be in shock—chalk white—but other than that, she seemed perfectly okay. She wasn’t crying but whimpered instead. I felt so ashamed of myself as I carried her upstairs. I immediately called my pediatrician. He reassured me, saying, “She’s probably fine, but keep an eye on her to see how much she sleeps. It’s possible that she might have a concussion.” I made another call to my sister, a registered nurse, who lived nearby. She came over right away and shared my anguish and horror, but by the time she went home, she concluded, “I think she is fine.”
I made it through the rest of that Sunday chastising myself for the most careless thing I had ever done since becoming a mother! On the other hand, I realized something very special had taken place, which relieved my dreadful feelings. For my baby to land in the middle of the basement floor meant that she flew out of the walker as it fell down the steps. She must have gone airborne through the open handrail and dropped about six feet to the concrete floor, without even a throw rug to soften her landing. And yet, here she was, fine. How was that possible? My brief but heart-felt prayer had been answered.
During the days ahead, the horrible guilt subsided, and my baby continued to be fine and healthy. It was many years before I shared this story with anyone, for obvious reasons. I was reluctant to do so but yet was anxious to tell of the miracle that had taken place. Gratitude fills my heart now as I return to the present moment in my retirement home. Looking at the pictures in my collage of Lisa’s wedding, my son-in-law, and her two beautiful children, I’m no longer ashamed to tell this story. I know full well that none of this would have been possible without divine help on that day so long ago. I have come to believe that a very speedy angel caught my baby in mid-air and laid her softly on the concrete floor. There is no other possible explanation that comes into my mind after all these years. I often think of that Sunday and feel so special as I remember having my very own “angel in the basement.”
There are ever, for every soul, those that may be termed the guides or guardian angels that stand before the throne of grace and mercy. (405-1)
Judy Cosgrove is a spiritual seeker and long-time member of the A.R.E. A certified Asian body worker and graduate from the Meridian Institute in Wayne, Pa., she practiced Shiatsu and Tendino-Muscular Meridian work at a chiropractic center and a healing arts center, both in the West Chester, Pa. area. She retired from a career as an administrative assistant from a major corporation in the Philadelphia area. Following the death of her son Michael in 1992, she has been involved with “The Compassionate Friends” (TCF), a global support group for parents whose children have died. A volunteer, she leads workshops and writes articles on after death communication to help bereaved parents in their grief process. She has been married to husband Bill for 48 years, and is the proud mother of three children and two grandchildren.
Seeking a Reading from a Psychic
From the perspective of the Edgar Cayce readings, each of us is our own best psychic. Whether the information comes from a hunch, an intuition, our dreams, or synchronicity, each of us possesses a wealth of internal guidance that can be drawn upon whenever we need it. In fact, the Cayce material suggests that our true natural state is psychic and that as we progress spiritually in our lives we will have more personal experiences with this psychic dimension of our beings.
Still, there are times in life when we may feel the need to receive external guidance. Just as it is appropriate for individuals to seek out help from a doctor, a counselor, a minister, or a trusted friend, there may be occasions when we feel the need for intuitive information.
Whenever A.R.E. features a professional psychic on one of our seminars, programs, or psychic fairs, it is because the individual has demonstrated some measurable ability. However, individuals on our programs are not being endorsed by the A.R.E. While we have worked with individuals who are sincere, ethical, and interested in being helpful to others, we have yet to find an individual who is 100% accurate – and that includes Edgar Cayce, whose calculated 85% accuracy rate is still considered the highest known in contemporary times. The physical, mental, and emotional condition at the time of the reading of the person getting guidance, as well as that of the psychic, may affect the accuracy of the information and/or the ability to communicate/understand this information clearly and coherently.
To get the most from a psychic reading, whether it is external (from a psychic, a numerologist, an astrologer, a “guide,” etc.) or internal (one’s own dreams, inner guidance, visions, intuition, etc.), it is extremely helpful to do a little preparation first.
- The purpose of the reading: Edgar Cayce’s own readings indicated that the purposes of those requesting a reading, as well as the purposes of the psychic in giving a reading and the purposes of those most directly concerned or surrounding both people, played crucial roles in the clarity and depth of the reading obtained.
- Examine your own ideal, values, and soul purpose: Again, the ideals (motivation) and purposes of those directly concerned and surrounding the psychic and the person requesting the reading have an important impact on the quality of the reading. If there is a confusion of purposes, of ideals or if the request for the reading is prompted by greed, curiosity, or desire for power, the quality, clarity, and wisdom of the reading may be considerably less.
- Formulate the questions you want answered: There are some examples below that may help you with the wording. You will want to ask the best questions to elicit the clearest answers.
- Seek guidance making decisions: Be clear in your own mind that you’re looking for help to make your own decisions rather than unconsciously trying to shift the responsibility to someone wiser and with a better view into the future. Getting others perspectives is most helpful when used for making your own informed decisions.
- Examine your own dreams (visit EdgarCayce.org/dreams for more about working with your dreams).
Following are some sample questions:
- Soul's Purpose: What is my mission for this lifetime? How can I best make use of my abilities in the context of my soul’s mission for this lifetime?
- Your own past lifetimes: Describe those past-life experiences that most directly influence me in my current life. Describe those past lives that relate to my present relationship with (insert name).
- Understanding interpersonal relationships: In order to attain real forgiveness and peace, please give me that information I can now use constructively about past-life experiences with (insert name and birth date). Please give that information which will help me understand the source of my problem (provide example) with (insert name and birth date) and what I can do to experience love and healing in our relationship.
- Transforming a particular attitude or emotion: I’ve always had trouble with (emotion for example: losing my temper); what is the source of this and what can I do about it? Lately I find myself plagued with irrational anxiety and insomnia. How can I understand the causes and what can I do about it?
- The future: My ideal is to be of service to God; with this in mind, can I expect that my present employer, (Company Name)to be the place where I can fulfill that ideal in my work life, or should I be looking for another employer?
How to evaluate psychic information, both internal and external:
- Does it have a “ring of truth” for me? Confirmable facts? A feeling of rightness?
- Does it give me applicable things to try to do? If so, what are the results when I do them? Do benefits result for me and all other people involved?
- Does it call me to begin doing the best I know to be doing in my life?
- Does it empower me to take charge of my own life ― giving me a personal next step ― rather than becoming dependent on the psychic source?
- Does it leave me with a sense of hope about my life?
- Does it “speak my language”? Do I feel as if the psychic information addressed me personally, using words, images, metaphors, and examples to which I can relate?
- Let someone else look at the question and answer. What does a trusted friend have to say about the information?
- Does it answer unasked questions, which lie within me?
- Does it stretch me to new, unconsidered aspects of myself and of my life?
- Does it seem to get better with time? When I look back at it six months or a year later, has my evaluation of the reading become even higher?
Visit Edgar Cayce's A.R.E. on Saturday, July 25 for our next Psychic Fair.
"Crown of Thorns"
By Richard Gaspari, as told to Judy Cosgrove
Would you ever think that prayer and a painting could heal an illness? No, me neither. But something changed my mind. In 2009, I was happily employed at a medical research company. However, cutbacks were part of the industry and now it was my turn to be laid off. I started applying for positions that matched my skill and experience levels, but to no avail. I couldn’t even get an acknowledgement that my applications and résumés were even received. I noticed myself silently slipping into depression.
At that time, I didn’t consider myself a religious man, but troubled times led me to soul searching and to prayer. It was then that I started watching a religious TV station in our area. Early one morning, after a particularly sleepless night, I turned on a show entitled, “Holy Land Rosary,” which was being aired in Jerusalem, Israel.
The crucifix on a rosary.
On the show, a priest was praying the “Sorrowful Mysteries” Rosary to an audience in Jerusalem. These five mysteries describe the sufferings of Jesus on the first Good Friday over 2000 years ago. “The Agony in the Garden,” “The Scourging at the Pillar,” “The Crowning with Thorns,” “The Carrying of the Cross,” and “The Crucifixion.”
The camera led us to each ancient site. When “The Crowning with Thorns” was announced and prayers began, scenes from the Church of the Flagellation were shown. This church was built on the location where it is believed that Jesus was flogged on his way to Calvary. Icons representing the crucifixion story were displayed around the doorway to the church. Inside, hand-painted on the wall above the altar was a beautiful depiction of the Crown of Thorns, and flowers in stained glass surrounded the magnificent painting. The shades of gold, purple, deep crimson, and brown blended beautifully with the stained glass.
Jerusalem, Church of the Flagellation
It was during the “Sorrowful Mysteries” that this Crown of Thorns really caught my eye. I felt personally touched by it and a wave of comfort flowed through me. I could feel my depression lifting and hope taking its place. The Crown of Thorns painting showed me pain and humiliation, yet it also brought me comfort. How could something so painful and humiliating bring peace and comfort? This Crown of Thorns suddenly appeared as the most beautiful and multifaceted creation I had ever seen. That was when I started praying the rosary, and still do to this day.
I found myself pondering the thought of painting the crown myself, but it seemed like too complex a project. I became aware of sick people around me and wanted to share with them the comfort it brought to me. The struggle of how to paint Jesus’ intricate Crown of Thorns and bring it to justice on canvas kept me from beginning.
While I was still thinking about it, my life continued to improve. I was able to obtain a position in a pharmaceutical company. Part of the hiring agreement was for me to complete additional college-level courses. This included some elective courses, and I was able to select an art course that would help me start my Crown of Thorns painting.
As I thought about how to start, my first stumbling block was a logistical one. The crown being round would relate to a square frame versus a rectangular one, which I preferred. This problem was solved by incorporating the icons shown outside the church on either side of the crown. I now had the desirable size and shape for my picture and was ready to start.
However, just at that time I came down with a bad case of the Shingles. If you’ve ever had Chickenpox, Shingles can strike when you least expect it, and can cause a blistering rash that may bring deep, penetrating pain that can last for 30 days or longer. Most people get Shingles blisters around the middle of their body, but what became ironic for me was that my blisters wrapped around my head! My pain manifested into migraine headaches that lasted 24 hours a day, seven days a week. When I say headaches, I mean “a headache”—one long headache that lasted for five weeks. I was barely able to concentrate on work, let alone begin a complex painting. The only time I wasn’t in pain was when I was sleeping—or so I thought, but my wife told me I was even moaning in my sleep! The continuous headache eventually subsided into daily headaches starting in the sixth week. Now, stronger than ever, I had the desire to start my painting.
Using my camera, I took pictures of the crown and icons right from the TV as I again watched the “Sorrowful Mysteries” being aired on the same TV show. I was able to adjust the lens until the pictures were the desired shape. I then worked on pencil sketches until I was happy with one. I discovered in class that my favorite medium for painting was watercolor. I worked on the painting project off-and-on for 15 to 20 hours at a time.
Select image to view larger
Finally, I felt confident in my endeavor, and the painting was completed! That night, I experienced the best night's sleep I'd had in months, and the next morning my head was clear. I said to my wife, “I'm done with the Shingles!” Something within me knew that they were over and that completing the painting had brought me healing.
Now, whenever I have family or friends in need, I like to present them with a framed copy of my Crown of Thorns painting. I tell them my story and how I felt that Jesus reached out to help me through this beautiful work of art in a church in Jerusalem.
Judy Cosgrove Judy is a spiritual seeker and long-time member of the A.R.E. A certified Asian body worker and graduate from the Meridian Institute in Wayne, Penn, she practiced Shiatsu and Tendino-Muscular Meridian work at a chiropractic center and a healing arts center, both in the West Chester, Penn area. She retired from a career as an administrative assistant from a major corporation in the Philadelphia area. Following the death of her son Michael in 1992, she has been involved with “The Compassionate Friends” (TCF), a global support group for parents whose children have died. A volunteer, she leads workshops and writes articles on after death communication to help bereaved parents in their grief process. She has been married to husband Bill for 48 years, and is the proud mother of three children and two grandchildren.
Only a Dream?
By Yvonne P. Gleason
“Anything of importance that will ever happen to you will be previewed in a dream.” — Awakening Your Psychic Powers: An Edgar Cayce Guide
by Henry Reed PhD.
One night when I was a child, I had a vivid dream that shook me to my bones. In this dream, my dad died in a car accident while driving to work. When I woke up, the dream seemed so real that I believed it.
The next morning at the breakfast table, while Dad was still upstairs, I told my mom about the dream. I told her that I didn’t want Dad to go to work. I thought if he did, he might die.
My mom said, “Oh honey, it was just a bad dream. Don’t tell your father. It’ll only upset him.”
“If it was just a dream, why can’t I tell him?” I asked
“Your father has enough pressure at work and he really doesn’t need to hear negative things right now.”
I persisted. “But Mom, I really think I should tell him. Please?”
“No. Please, honey, don’t upset him with this. Promise me.”
I didn’t want to upset my dad. Besides, Mom was always right about things. She was probably right about this too. Maybe I was getting worked up for nothing. It probably was just a bad dream—a nightmare.
“O.K., Mom. I won’t tell him,” I promised.
I let go of the issue and dug into my cereal. As Dad made his way out the door, I said, “I love you, Dad.”
He winked at me and said, “I love you too, Golden-girl,” just like always.
I grabbed my books and walked to school. By lunch, I’d forgotten about the dream.
Later that night I sat down to the dinner table as usual. My mom had dinner ready to serve, but Dad wasn’t home yet. Six-thirty came and went. Still no Dad.
I looked at the painting of Mary Poppins on the wall across from the table. It was bought after Mom had taken me to see the movie Mary Poppins years ago. I loved the movie because Mary Poppins helped Mr. Banks get closer to his children, Jane and Michael. It wasn’t until Jane and Michael wrote the want-ad for a nanny that Mary Poppins showed up and changed everything.
I didn’t need Mary Poppins, because my dad was always here for me at six o’clock sharp. It was a familiar routine to give him a big hug when he came home.
But tonight he wasn’t here. The tick-tick of the clock began to sound louder and slower than usual. Every second turned into an eternity.
Finally Mom picked up the phone and dialed the office. “An hour ago? Are you sure? Okay. Thank you.”
She hung up the phone. “He left at five o’clock, as usual.”
Seven-thirty came and went. I didn’t move from the table.
Mom started pacing. “Maybe he ran an errand. But I don’t remember him telling me . . .”
No matter how hard I tried to believe that he’d gone to the store or some other place, I really felt like something bad had happened to Dad.
“Why don’t you eat? It’s late,” Mom said.
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.” The kitchen had grown bigger, hollow and otherworldly with the constant heavy strike of the second hand.
I looked through the sliding glass door that led to our backyard. There was no wind tonight, and I was old enough to know that Mary Poppins wouldn’t sweep down from the sky with her umbrella to help me or Mom.
I began to write my own want-ad in my head:
Please help us stay together. Please find my dad.
Then a few minutes before eight o’clock, my dad walked up to the sliding glass door along with a police officer. In one hand, Dad held his briefcase; in the other, the snow scraper from his car. His eyes were wide as if he was permanently surprised. Mom opened the door. I yelled, “Dad!” and ran to him.
The officer said that my dad was in a car accident while driving home from work. Dad further explained how he’d been pushed down a steep ravine to the very edge, with his car swaying back and forth, ready to drop at any moment. He’d had to be carefully maneuvered from the car.
Suddenly I understood that one move in the wrong direction would have meant disaster. My father had almost died.
Later that night, with the three of us finally sitting at the dinner table, Mom said, “Isn’t that strange? Your dream last night?”
Suddenly I remembered the terrible dream.
Dad asked, “What dream?”
I told him all about it. My mom apologized for not letting me tell. Dad said he believed it was a premonition.
Even though in my dream Dad was going to work, not coming from work, I knew it was a premonition. I felt grateful that part of my dream hadn’t come true. Dad was alive and here with us.
Dad leaned across the table and said, “The next time you have a dream like that, you let us both know.”
I said, “Okay, I promise.” To this day I’ve kept that promise.
Since that event, I’ve had many precognitive dreams. Some concerning my father; some concerning other loved ones. Over time, I’ve learned to discern which dreams are precognitive and which are not. The precognitive ones bring a sense of urgency to tell a particular person the information in the dream.
Perhaps when all of our souls are on the “other side,” before we’re born, we make promises to warn each other of what’s to come, as a form of protection, or a form of love. I just know that I’m thankful for all of my dreams and the guidance they continue to bring.
Precognitive dreams can come to anyone. I wasn’t “special” when mine started happening. I was just a girl going to elementary school, playing with friends, and making sure I finished my homework on time.
All my life I’ve kept a journal, starting at a very early age. My journals included writing down my dreams and trying to interpret them. Edgar Cayce said that dream journals not only help us to remember our dreams more clearly each time we dream, but they help to keep us open to receiving new dreams and the guidance that comes through them.
Yvonne P. Gleason has always been fascinated by dreams and their meanings. Her journals usually have plenty of dreams—some with messages—and some still left to be “translated.” Currently she is taking a course on dream interpretation at Atlantic University as part of the Spiritual Guidance Mentor Training certificate program. This is her first blog post for Edgar Cayce’s A.R.E.
Edgar Cayce’s A.R.E. blog offers opinion pieces from contributors with a wide variety of backgrounds. These opinions are valued and create points of discussion. Opinions expressed in our blog may not necessarily represent the opinion of A.R.E.