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Past Lives Regression Not Regret

Chapter One

It was the winter of 1692, and Boston, Massachusetts had endured the constant onslaught of nor’easters, more than the region had seen in quite some time. Yet, it didn’t stop the rare sickness that swept through the small town at a terrible speed, killing both humans and animals alike. The serious infection was thought to have been spread by the flea infested bison hides brought in by an Old Dutch fur trader. But, no one really cared how the Black Death arrived on their doorstep; the only thing on their minds was how to contain this deadly curse, the rarest and deadliest form of plague that they had ever seen. By the following spring, the plague had spread far north into Salem, where people called it The Curse of Darkness because the sickness came in the dead of night, consuming lives by the break of dawn. A terrible killer was loose across The New World, and medieval medicine had nothing to combat it.

Could their only hope come from healing magic, the magic that most had shunned? Was the beautiful woman that lived alone with her daughter on the banks of the Mystic River their only hope? And if so, would they all be damned for accepting what they thought was witchcraft?

Sa Rah’s hair hung long down her back, in dark black ringlets, skin the soft gold color of her Indian father, and light emerald green eyes, like her Irish mother. Her five-year-old daughter Clandess held the same striking appearance. It was said among the townsfolk that Sa Rah and her daughter were the devil’s spawn. Yet, most of the people of Salem didn’t care, as long as Sa Rah could put an end to the madness that now consumed them all, for death was knocking on each and every one of their doors.

Clandess sat in her mother’s arms, twirling one of her mother’s long black ringlets between her tiny fingers. Looking up, she said, “Mommy, read me one of your stories.”

Smiling back at her precious child, Sa Rah began to read the first few paragraphs from The Book of Lilly. She knew it was more than her small child could comprehend, but Clandess seemed to love and understand what the book was about.

Snuggling up to her mother, she could feel the words vibrate as Sa Rha read. “From generation to generation, through the spoken words of our ancient ancestors, the stories seem to grow as each mother spoke of the healing powers that she would one day pass down to her child.”

“Mommy, can you heal me if I get sick?”

“Fear not, my child, for I would never allow you to get sick.” Smiling, Clandess laid back down against her mother’s chest so she could hear the rest of the story.

“Your great-grandmother Abigale said to her daughter Nina. The herbs that I gathered, and the words I will teach you are stories of magic; not just any magic, but sacred healing magic. However, I must warn you, my dear child, the healing magic must remain a mystery to the outside world, for one day it is foretold by the grandmothers that death shall be bestowed upon the ones that practice the sacred healing ritual.”

“Mommy, is it bad to heal?” Kissing the top of her daughters head, Sa Rah replied, “No, my love, but some are afraid of what they don’t understand. Now, sit back so I can finish the story, for its past your bedtime.”

“Yet, the specter of death never stopped the women of our clan from passing down their stories.”

“Mommy, what does that mean?”

“It means, my darling, that one day I’ll add my stories to The Book of Lilly, as will you, and your daughter and hers. Now, let’s get you to bed.”

Sitting by the fire, Sa Rah contemplated what her story would hold. Would it tell of how she was unable to heal her own father as he lay in his dying bed, or how her mother’s crazy dreams drove her to the Mystic River where she took her own life?

Or would she tell of the magic she held the night Clandess was born?

As The Book of Lilly is passed down, you are asked to seek answers in your personal history, add to it your own story and find the threads of the patterns in your reality, and trace their length to the present. Perhaps you’ll be surprised by how much of your past, or that of your ancestors, still weaves its influence on you today.

Chapter Two

Six years earlier,

Joaquim watched from the edge of the woods as Sa Rah lit the ceremonial fire. He emerged from the darkness as the wooden raft burned out and sank to the bottom of the Mystic River, carrying the ashes of Yiska with it.

Sa Rah jumped when Joaquim placed a gentle hand on her back. With tears still in her eyes, she spun around and pulled the knife out of her boot. Stepping back with his hands in the air, Joaquim said, “Sa Rah.”

Before he could speak another word, she growled, “How is it that you know my name?”

“Your father and I had known each other for many years.”

“How can that be true, my father has lived on this land alone for more years than I know, until my mother ran away from her abusive family and became lost in his woods. So how do you know my father?”

“Long before Yiska lived here, he was a part of the Mohawk tribe. When he left, I was just a small boy, but I remember how brave I thought he was. And the things he showed me were amazing. So when I became a man, I went looking for him. When he found your mother, I moved on, not to see him again until he felt the sickness grow within him. At that time, he called on me to come and help guide you when the time was right.”

“Why would he not tell me this?”

“In telling you, he would have to admit to you that he was dying. He wanted to spare you the pain.”

Dropping the knife, Sa Rah turned and walked to the cabin. The pain of watching her father’s burning body slowly sink into the Mystic River was more than she could handle, and now having to hear that he had protected her from the truth was more than she could tolerate. But when she walked into the empty cabin she had shared with her parents, the pain was so intense she fell to her knees and cried. Sa Rah was alone, alone in a world she knew nothing of.

As the weeks flew by, Joaquim became her guide and mentor, teaching her many things, things she and her father had done together, but that she had paid no attention to. But now, she knew her survival depended on learning the ways of the land.

On a dark spring night, a storm rolled in, raining for well over a week. If it hadn’t been for her father’s well thought out building design, the cabin would have been consumed by the flooding waters of the Mystic River. Instead the cabin stayed dry, high on the hill overlooking the river.

But a lot was lost, things she could never replace, like the totem her father and she carved many years ago, as well as the medicine wheel the two of them made from the large stones they dredged out of the Mystic. All of these things were gone forever, just like her father.

Sitting on the ground, Sa Rah put her head down on her knees and cried. She felt so lost and alone. When she felt the gentle hand of her now close friend Joaquim, she looked up at him. It was hard, but she managed to give him a faint smile. Reaching out, she took his hand, and he led her into the cabin.

She could feel the warmth of the large fire, and the smell of the sweet scent of the strange drink Joaquim called tea. Sitting by the fire, the warm liquid soothed her aching soul. Smiling, she looked up at him and said, “How is it that you always know what I need?”

“We’re connected Sa Rha, we’re soulmates; you’re an aspect of me, as I’m of you. I believe your father knew that, and that is why he came to me all those years ago, when he felt the sickness growing within him. He knew you would feel the connection. He knew you would trust me to show you the way. You’re not only a powerful healer, but you have the ability to see, hear and feel things. Once you master all of your gifts, there’ll be nothing you can’t do once you put your mind to it.”

“I couldn’t even save my father, so how can I have all the gifts you speak of?” After taking a sip of her tea, she looked into the fire and then said, “What is a soulmate? I’ve never heard that word before.”

Joaquim leaned over and brushed a stray curl behind Sa Rah’s ear. When she smiled at him, he leaned in and took her lips with his, and at that moment she knew what a soulmate was. The warmth of his mouth and the touch of his hand were like nothing she had ever felt before. From that moment on, Joaquim became more than a mentor; he became everything to her, her lover, her soulmate, and her reason to live. Sa Rah was no longer alone.

It was as if spring was passing by at a snail’s pace. And the rain seemed to never stop, keeping Sa Rah and Joaquim locked away in the cozy cabin. The burning fire and the heavy storms made for long nights of romantic love and unbridled sex. Then one morning, Sa Rah woke to the sound of summer, with the birds, frogs, and crickets singing their songs, and the heat, oh my, the heat was thick along the water’s edge of the Mystic.

Jumping out of bed with her hand held over her mouth, Sa Rah ran out the door, falling to her knees.

Wiping her mouth, she looked up, and that is when she saw Joaquim watching her. Running to her, he knelt down, and then said, “Are you OK?”

Embarrassed, she looked away as she started to get up. “I think it’s the heat.”

Taking her hand, Joaquim replied, “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“No, I’m OK.”

Giving her a strange look, he replied, “Are you sure?” Smiling, she kissed his cheek, and then went back inside to change out of her night clothes.

For the rest of the day, she felt sick, yet she continued to help Joaquim tend to the chores.

Before they both knew it, a month had slowly slipped by. And every morning, Sa Rah felt the churning in her stomach. It was as if hot acid was eating her insides, and after she would throw up, she would feel somewhat better.

Joaquim’s passion seemed to have passed away as did the summer. And then one fall morning, Sa Rah woke to an empty bed. But this time, she somewhat knew she would not find him working in the garden, or chopping wood. For it was already taken care of. It was as if he had known he would be leaving, and he had been preparing her for a long winter.

Months later,

The onslaught of the pouring rain beat down on the tin roof. And the loud claps of constant thunder drowned out Sa Rah’s cries. Oh, God the pain, the pain the poor girl endured was more than most could tolerate.

When the beautiful baby girl blessed the world with her presence, she was blue and not breathing. Sa Rah screamed, “NO! I will not let you leave me too.”

Placing her hand on the tiny chest of her baby girl, Sa Rah brought forth the emerald green and white holy light of the divine healers of Atlantis and Lemuria. Through her labored breath, you could barely hear her whisper. “Light of Breath, Sacred Wind, Wisdom Healers, bring forth life to my little one.” As Sa Rah’s will to save her baby girl grew stronger, her chant became louder, “Light of Breath, Sacred Wind, Wisdom Healers, bring forth life to my little one.”

Sa Rah’s eyes flew open when she heard the tiny cry. With tears falling, she brought her baby to her chest. Kissing her cheek, Sa Rah whispered, “I shall call you Clandess, for you were destined to be my little one.”

Looking down into her baby’s eyes, Sa Rah couldn’t help but to think back on the night Clandess was conceived; it was as if Joaquim knew. It was as if he had his own magic, the magic of knowing. Sa Rah lost her heart the night Joaquim left, never to give it to another man again. But, on that stormy night that she brought Clandess into the world alone, her heart was full of joy, a joy that no one could ever steal, a joy that only death could take away. And from that moment on, Sa Rah knew she had to study The Book of Lilly, for she could never lose her Clandess.

For complete book of “Past Life Regression, Not Regret” by KC Bouma in paperback go to Amazon


Past Lives Regression Not Regret

Spiritual healing, magic, witchcraft, whatever the people of Salem Massachusetts called it really didn’t matter to Jack. The only thing on his mind was how to save his town from the deadly plague that was sweeping through at a horrific pace. Sa Rha, the beautiful woman that lived with her small child on the banks of the Mystic River, could she be their only hope and If so would they all be damned for accepting her help...

  • Author: KC Bouma
  • Published: 2015-09-13 05:05:06
  • Words: 2258
Past Lives Regression Not Regret Past Lives Regression Not Regret