1/8/2015
Mother Mary Miracle
Beyond the Secret is the fascinating autobiography of Dr. Louis Turi. It recounts his unusual life starting at birth in the Provence region of France, to his life in England and America. His experiences range from tragic to euphoric, mundane and miraculous, all of which have given him great compassion for his fellow humans. He explains metaphysical principles that apply to the different chapters of his life. There is much more in this life than the Law of Attraction. Other laws include metaphysical and cosmological aspects. It is an engaging read you will not be able to set down.
Scepter of one of my books “Beyond the Secret“
The cold rain, freezing coastal wind, and the shooting pain made the walk unbearable. I was young, blessed with a will of steel, and trained to deal with misery with courage. I was hot and sweaty when I left the badly ventilated restaurant and the chilly night was not going to stop me. I was already battling a persistent cold, but I had no other option than to take care of myself. After what seemed an eternity, I finally arrived at St. Mary’s Hospital, totally exhausted and in serious pain.
I swiftly gulped a boiling cup of coffee and punched my time card in the indifferent machine. I hated this clock, because it marked a time where my life did not belong to me anymore, but to the long and boring night in front of me. Answering the few calls during my night shift was not exactly physically demanding, apart from the regular walks along the smelly wards for security purposes.
All of the patients were terminally ill and painfully waiting for their demise. Sadly enough, Marc was off duty that night. Even though my injury was serious, I did not want to bring him back to the hospital just for me. I hated the entire world around me and I had to call on my supreme spirit to deal with my aching hand and the long night ahead of me.
Night duty Filipino nurses were busy taking care of the sleepless elderly patients. Some of those strong-willed girls had to work very long hours or like me, two jobs to survive. Some of these girls killed time by smoking in the empty corridors, while others took naps in the office.
I was aware of all the rules, but I never enforced or reported the girls. Nothing I would say or do would help or hurt the dying patients one bit. This particular hospital was the last stop where the elderly did not have to wait too long for the trip back to God.
For hours I used to play on the church’s old organ giving a form of entertainment to the dying. I knew they would miss my melodies for a few weeks to come. An old piano was also a proximity to the ward and my music was the only beautiful thing they had left. I was happy to bring them a sense of relief between the excruciating bed sore cleaning sessions.
Before my injury, I painfully recalled an old man asking me for a glass of water and a song. I gave him the water and played an old song on the piano for him. When I returned he was dead; his glass of water was left unfinished on the table and his soul flew away, lifted by the sound of my music. I knew him well and I cried silently for a while, but I was happy to be the person to grant his last wish on earth.
Seated in front of my dead telephone board, I was harassed by a wave of depressive thoughts. I felt dizzy for a while and my running nose was making it difficult for me to breathe. To make the situation worse, I had a pounding headache, and my hand was killing me.
I had caught a serious cold and I was at one of the lowest moments in my life feeling very lonely, missing Jane and my family. I could not even turn to my best friend Massimo; he had gone back to Italy just a few weeks ago. I was alone and desperate and I decided to try forgetting my misery by reading a brochure on the hospital history.
Before becoming Saint Mary’s Hospital, many centuries ago the small mission was operated by monks and nuns. The story goes that a nun named Mary began to perform healing miracles and many people came from all over the country to see her. When she died, her body was buried in the small chapel, in what is now the hospital.
Many nurses and patients have reported seeing her at night, walking the long corridors. Many terminally ill patients proclaimed talking to her and all believed that she was to lead them to the Light of God. I was very young and I was ignorant of any spiritual manifestation and most certainly had no idea that I was going to deal with “Mother Mary” directly in two very different situations. I felt that maybe a prayer would help me out of my gloomy attitude and began to talk to her.
“Dear, St. Mary” I asked “is it worth me staying here in the UK? Is it worth it for me to suffer so much, away from home and my dear family? Will I succeed in my musical tests? Am I wasting my time in the UK? Please, St. Mary, give me a simple sign anything at all will do please,” I begged her.
Looking carefully around me I waited patiently for an indicator to take place but nothing happened and I thought this makes no sense, there is no Mary, no sign, all this is bull and I hated myself to make such a silly request. Little did I know I was going to witness a true miracle that will stay with me until I expire myself from this world.
I was lethargic and fighting hard to stay awake and while stretching, I glanced behind me into the trash basket. I saw an old newspaper and a bunch of discarded dead roses lying there. I felt a force inside of me pushing me and I reached for the lifeless flowers. For some unknown reason, I brought them right in front of my face and stared at them.
THEN A TRUE MIRACLE HAPPENED! To my stupefaction, the dead roses slowly began to rise in front of my astounded eyes! I could not believe what I was seeing! I could not speak or move and I felt like a life force traveling through my entire body, my head, my arms, and then all the way through my hands. The flowers slowly began to rise and regained both their full red color and vibrant life. My mouth was wide open and I was in total awe.
I was looking at the most beautiful bouquet of roses ever, emanating life as if death itself never extended to them. Apart from my UFO encounter as a child, I had never experienced the supernatural like this before and my faith in St. Mary and her powerful messages helped me to get through one of the worst times in my life.
Anyone reading my book can either doubt my integrity or question my sanity, but I can only assure you this miracle took place as such. Many years later, I finally understood the paranormal “manifesto” and the energy field involved. Following this amazing occurrence, my hand healed rapidly and I knew no one would ever buy my story.
I prudently decided to keep my miraculous experience with “Mary” for myself and shared the miracle with close friends only. Finally the day came for my Musicianship examination and I was ready. The Audrey Wickens School of Music in Eastbourne was full of anticipating students and proud parents.
I was outside smoking and charming the pretty girls, while valuable instructions were given to the virtuous students inside the building. After a while, my name was called and I walked back straight to the maestro’s Grand piano and sat there motionless.
The room was packed and silent while the critical judges were waiting for me to start playing my piece. Standing next to me was a tall skinny man, who carefully placed a few sheets of music in front of me. After a while, murmurs floated in the thick atmosphere, wondering why I did not yet start playing. I did not move a finger and the man next to me whispered in my ear, “What are you waiting for Louis, are you stage frozen?”
“No, I am not; I am waiting for you to go! I can’t play with someone standing next to me,” I answered. The Grand piano had a hidden microphone that picked up all my words, loud and clear and the man finally left. Part of the instructions that I missed while I was outside was this person’s job to turn the many pages of the “Praeludium One” piece of music composed by Mozart.
I was wondering about the dexterity and speed of my fingers, but as soon as he left, I began to play. The many months of practice paid off and once I finished playing, to my surprise, I received a standing ovation. I was proud of a job well done and left the stage in a hurry.
My mom was missing me too much and I had to go back home regardless of the outcome with Nick. I managed to do so, by finding temporary replacement for my monotonous duties. I had planned to go home right after my examination and I was very late to catch the train to New Heaven and cross over the English Channel to France.
Many hours later, I recognized the familiar mountains of the South of France. The weather was still warm as I exited the train in the city of Orange in Provence. My mother took the drive from my little village and after hugging her; I took over the driving back home.
We spoke about the latest news about the family and my most recent crazy spiritual adventure. After a good dinner and a few glasses of wine late into the night, I went to bed enjoying the safety and love of the place I all call home. I could only stay for two weeks because of my job and an important recording project started with my English musician friends. To be continued…
| Law of Release |
| * The inexplicable revival of the roses demonstrates the “Law of Release.” When we are at our wits end, desperate and have nowhere to go, it is possible to release the worry and tension and let the higher powers of our own subconscious take over. This may result in true miracles. The prayer I made to St. Mary was a prayer to my own subconscious. While occupied in my prayer, I was not engaging disappointment or worry but rather appealing to the higher part of myself to show me a sign. This gave my subconscious a chance to show itself in the miracle of the roses coming back alive right in from of my astonished eyes. Indeed a true experience (and I do not smoke pot!) |
No one would ever be able to forget such an experience, all I know is on that 1978 November cold night I was under of one of my positive “Cosmic Biorhythms.” There are millions of highly spiritual souls dedicated to help you in your tasking journey on earth, but you must be cautious by differentiating the truly gifted with the Neptunians born.
Blessings
Dr. Turi
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