The Destiny

By Stelah Kerem-Ronen

This book can be called a book of MIRACLES. It presents a metaphysical-interpersonal relationship between Lulu and me, with whom I had a very intensive friendship for a very short time, only four months (equivalent maybe to forty years...). In reality, it is a Journey from the spiritual world to the terrestrial world. Lulu made me write that I should accept this grace, this gift given to me are the Laws of the Destiny. Lulu made me understand that she was alive in another dimension where she felt love, sorrow, joy and even anger. I thank heaven for this wonderful experience that has made me understand so many things and realize that "Knowing is Believing." This true story will bring to all the people who lost their loved ones; to understand that "All is Time" and "All is Possible." Life after death does exist. To people who are skeptics, the proof is very valid. This true story is simple to read and understand, funny and sad at times... but Lulu being a very powerful master and angel succeeded in showing that "Love is very strong," and one only has to be more conscious to ese or hear your loved ones. I hope all Lulu's mantra, counsels, wisdom and love will help you and ultimately the rest of HUMANITY...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raider Publishing International
• Release date: Aug 16, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465812773

Book preview

Introduction

I would like to describe in this book a very special episode in my life that happened and changed me slowly, almost completely, to be able to write about all that I was and have been and most probably what I am today.

The readers will judge it…

I would like to thank my coach, my spiritual guide— Oriella Paz Maureen who gave me courage with her wonderful qualities and high spiritual knowledge that helped me start this book. She showed me the way to open up my higher-self with the help of my masters and my angels who showed me their love and their light all through the way. It was only with Oriella Paz Maureen’s help that I was able to take a pen and copy book and start writing this wonderful description about experience and knowledge that I acquired during that time and which later on totally changed me to be what I am today. Thank you all of you!

To all my guides, to my guide/friend, sister, mother, daughter and Lulu Cermenati Shnurr, all the masters and angels for giving me this special force, and chance to be aware of all that which only is a channel with higher forces of light and love, and wonderful magnetic energy. Oriella Paz Maureen was there at the right time to show me how. She showed me another guide whom I appreciated, love and respect for his knowledge, patience and understanding, which helped me to change my name and gave me wonderful tools in order to grow up with his knowledge of the Hebrew letters! Thank you, Daniel, my friend. I love you so much.

Book 1

There was a young woman who was searching. She did not know what she was looking for… somehow, most probably, searching for her soul.

She thought day and night. She had done all the right things. She got married, as in those times marriage in your twenties or before was a must. She was desperate to find a love of her own; she was in some ways, intelligent and very conservative and in some ways, childish and spoiled.

This mystery woman got married to someone much older than her, maybe trying to know what love was, but love just passed by very quickly.

It was not passionate love; it was not infatuation, and there was no need for intimacy.

Was she running away from the house she was living in, with a sick father, and seemingly with a mother who was weak and also sick?

Maybe she just could not face it anymore. It all seems until now like other novels, but this is a true story and all is true… So take a deep breath, relax and see what happens!

She, in her own way loved and appreciated her husband, Rudy, but she saw him more as a saviour, a knight. By marrying him she could go out into the big world, do things she did had not done, find out more about herself and her life. She was funny, she was sweet; she was great fun to be with. She was full of ideas, but most of the time she was not very keen on carrying them out. I guess that she always dreamt of being famous and much appreciated, noticed in one way or the other, perhaps a theatre actress or a Mata Hari.

In some ways she teased others, but she also had compassion. She got angry very easily, and she was also sorry very easily. She did not have a grudge in her bones. She was sometimes quiet and sometime hyper. And at times she was caught up in her own thoughts. She would wonder, Who is this character?

When remembered walking in their garden full of fruits- figs, peaches, apricots, quinces, pine trees, and lots and lots of berries- when she was almost six years old. Her father was very meticulous with the garden, and had hired Vefa Efendi (the gardener who was worse than him). They both wanted the garden to look like the Garden of Eden.

Even at the age of four or five she had to have a little apron over her dress so that she would not be as black as charcoal from all the fresh pine fruits she would eat. But she loved to get dirty, and when she used to crush the pines, she used to eat first the crushed ones, and leave the whole ones for the end. Who knows how much of the black dust from the pines she swallowed.

She loved cats. There was an old cat in the garden (She must have thought that she was old) who seemed to have a problem. Her cousin and she had decided that she needed an operation, so one day they got some razor blades, iodine, and cotton wool ready. Then something amazing happened. The old cat started letting go from the bottom of her tummy small, wet, dirty, very, very tiny cats. She even ate one of them. It was terribly sad. What was she to do? She remembers it until today. Soon these creatures took another form. They looked like mini cats, and started to drink milk from their mother and grew larger every day. Every time the little girl picked one of them up, the old cat became angry, but she loved to look at these amazing little creatures, and felt a wonderful sensation. She brought cheese and milk to the old cat. At that time they lived in an old wooden house. She would go up the stairs slowly and silently so that no one would see her!

She was small, with long, reddish hair and lots of freckles; and when she was older, she was very ashamed of them.

In those times and in those parts of Istanbul (the Asian side) everything was very beautiful, and one could point out the farmers cutting the wheat with a board that was pulled by two cows and most probably had a blade. She loved going up to the old farmers there and asking permission to be on the board. It was like being in seventh heaven. She laughed and was very happy. But how could she get home with out being noticed either by her mother or her nanny? The operation of entering the house, taking off the dirty clothes and changing into clean ones was usually a success.

Moving on with the years, she studied in the best schools of Istanbul. She was a very good pupil in the first years of elementary school, and also the first years of high school. I guess this is something that happens very often.. Then there was a fall in grades but she did not really mind. Her aim was to be appreciated and was always looking for something new to do. But she always had her own ‘clausolas’, and her ego. (Later on, she worked very hard to let her ego go.)

She came from a family where money was not an issue. There was plenty of it but very little love and understanding.

Perhaps if the transition to her adolescent life had been different she would have acted differently. She kept falling in love, in order to realize her fantasies. Fantasy and romanticism were a great part of her being. She was always looking for approval from herself and from others and on the other hand self pity was always present at the back of her mind. Why? Would she be able to find out?

She wanted to be like the movie stars. They seemed interesting to her and her motto was: personality. For many years she looked for people with strong personalities. The moment she felt a person’s weakness, (which is quite a common trait in many of us,) she just could not bear it. She had to be different… not like everyone else… but different from whom? Most probably she did not understand it at all!

Rejection was also a problem. She felt depressed and very upset when she was rejected. At one point she started writing pages of sayings. The most popular one was A laughing face is not the mirror of a laughing soul. After all, these are adolescent feelings…

She loved philosophy and read the works of as many philosophers as she could. At times she was almost torn apart by the atmosphere in the house; doctors, diets, injections and fears. She thought of running away, but run to where? How could she change the nature of things? How could she move on? Then came the time of ‘Peace’ and ‘Love’— the sixties! Make love not War! Simone de Beauvoir, rock and roll, the Platters, Spanish Latin music, Brazilian fados, Tom Jones, Radio Monte Carlo were happening, but she enjoyed them with a grey, if not a black cloud of sadness! It seemed as though she was dancing and singing all the time, but in her heart she was waiting. Waiting for whom?

She always looked for love and felt love with great passion. She fell in love, and fell out of love. It did not help much, but she did not know of any other way.

She was stubborn, but also sweet. She got all she wanted and then she gave it away. She continually lost things. What a character! Yes, sweet and funny, and deceptive in other ways. It was not easy to be with her! Though she loved and did all the things that adolescents do at that age, she was not like all her friends in many ways. For example, instead of carrying a bag like all her friends, she carried a book underneath her arm, the same colour of her sweater. If everyone went to see an Indian movie, she wouldn’t. Was she looking for approval or did she think that she could gain more confidence by being different?

She was far from beautiful, but she had these laughing eyes, eyes that almost talked. She wanted to be slender and with no freckles, and was quite mean to boys. That was not very funny, though, and she did not deserve a medal for good will.

Her parents lived in their country house on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, because her father enjoyed autumn there, but as school started in September she had to travel to school every day almost for three hours from the Asian side to the European side of Istanbul by tram, boat, and tunnel (metro) and then walk some more to school and back from the European side of Istanbul to the Asian side.

But she loved it, because she found it a very amusing pastime, especially on the boat. She would buy a ticket that cost a little more. It was for the luxury class. There were rattan arm chairs and tables, and with a few cents one could also drink something. The wind was always blowing on one’s face. There was always the sound of the sea waves and usually a blue sky filled with white seagulls. The whole trip took about twenty minutes but she always found a character, either man or woman, to amuse her. These people from out of nowhere gave her ideas to day dream and think about one at a time and write a small story in her mind. Her imagination was very fertile then…

After the boat ride she still had to take the old subway that crossed the Asian and European side of Istanbul. It was a very short ride. It was dark green, and there was always a very strong smell of something. She never found out what it was. But it was fun. Anything that was different always amused her. Monotony was her enemy. When she came out of the subway she could smell the fresh bread from the deli. She would have liked to grab something good to eat, but she lacked the time. She walked quickly towards her school which then was The English High School for girls. It was an old building with very steep marble stairs and the same caretaker was always at the door. After almost three hours of travelling she would finally enter the class room.

She never complained. She must have felt happy, satisfied, and very important; and using her imagination was like bread and butter to her. She waited keenly for the return journey, wondering who she would meet.

Her parents, however, were a little concerned about these long trips, especially in the evening so they began letting her stay in the apartment on the European side of Istanbul. There were neighbours on each floor and the caretakers of the apartments loved her. She felt good with them. She ate the fat of lamb with onions and yogurt with them. She felt like a princess. She would never put those products in her mouth at home or elsewhere, but she felt sorry for them. It was difficult for her to come to terms with the differences between the poor and the rich. How could these wonderful people live in rooms without windows, with no fresh air except for that which came through the street door? She started understanding the human rights issue. Unfortunately she never did anything about it. The feelings piled up in her soul. She was a very free spirit but on the other hand she was controlled by other issues!

One afternoon after school, she looked out from the window of the living room and saw a young boy, almost her age, in the apartment across the street. The street being very narrow, one could look into the other apartments very easily. He was handsome too! She immediately introduced herself and he answered back. She had started a kind of friendship, which did not end very well. His name was Dario.

As an adolescent she had the most wonderful ideas about things like coffee parties. She was very much into American teenagers and she tried to dress and talk like them. She never lacked ideas. They just came out of her sleeves; but she did not know exactly how to take advantage of them.

Though most of the time she was in command of things that occurred in her life, she was also desperately in need of being guided, of being shown the right way, and of being protected. She had to go through many stages in her life in order to be where she is today and to be able to write.

In reality, nobody understood her and that included herself. Did she behave the way she did to show off or to be protected?

When she was fifteen her father decided to tear down the old wooden house and have a new two floor villa built in its place. He was quite a sick man, having had a stroke when she was twelve. But he had decided. Her father liked to help people. He also had very good taste. She thought he was stingy, but that was most probably because he did not throw his money away. But that was the reason he had money. Her father was very righteous, from what she could remember. He was a freemason (she had heard) and also helped the Jewish Community and the hospitals. But he was also the kind of man who would get very angry quickly, especially with people who did not think or act like him. Perhaps he was right, but it was very difficult to live in that atmosphere. When they played cards and had dinner parties she could hear them laughing but they never allowed her in on any of the fun. She tried to punish them by putting on Radio Monte Carlo with their new songs, and singing along. But she did not have the voice of a soprano and it most probably must have been chaotic!

Finally, after about two years, the new house was finished. Her father had planned it all. But at the same time two of the centenary pine trees were cut, and she still remembers how much she wept. Her mother was a very distinctive, very elegant and also very shy lady. She remembers how she used to put cucumbers and strawberries on her face. She really had a beautiful complexion and she died at the age of seventy two.

The house was very avant-garde for those years… Most probably her father loved living well, but neither of them ever had the time to enjoy the stylish atmosphere together.

Her mother had lived for quite a long time in Genoa, Italy, with her sister Rose, married to a professor of medicine, who she apparently met when she ran away with her two children from Europe. Having an attack of appendicitis there, she met her future husband, Professor Jean Macaggi.

Her mother’s family was (Heskia, Behar, Sarfati) from Andrinopolis, today’s Bulgaria, where she received an excellent education. Her father, from a well known family, Canetti, was also from Ruscuk (Bulgaria today). He was a divorcee with two teenage children when he met her mother who was living in Genoa at the time.

Her mother’s family was left with no money as the big fire in Edirne, (Andrinopolis) had left them destitute and they moved to Istanbul. Her father was very well off, handsome, and self made. He apparently wanted to remake his life and was looking for someone from a good family who was distinguished and well educated. As the Jewish Community in Istanbul was not very big the word went around very quickly, and an aunt sent a picture of her mother to her father and a picture of her father to her mother’s family in Genoa, Italy.

Her mother was shipped to Istanbul where she met her future husband and his two children, Henri, a boy of thirteen, and Regine, a daughter of fifteen. It was out of their union that our heroine was born.

At the age of fifteen after the episode of the new house, her father wanted to rest and also visit doctors in Switzerland, for the best doctors were there in those times, and people thought that if they were checked by those doctors they would receive some wonderful medicine and people would live much longer.

So he decided they would all leave by boat to Genoa. It was also a good opportunity for her mother to see her sister. They had a beautiful, very luxurious cabin on the ship which her father loved, but her poor mother was sea sick and she almost never left the cabin. So she was free to do what came to her mind. There was a lot of space, and many things to discover. Though her father was very well off, and also very intelligent he did not really understand her and that disturbed this fifteen year old girl immensely. How come that she was so? When would she see the light of truth and when would her mind and soul open to reality? Today, at the age of 69, when she thinks back on her behaviour she has goose bumps; because of her unbearable adolescence. But she was most probably protected by the angels and at one point her karma changed, after all the mistakes she made, trivial, or very serious.

Yes, she did discover a girl named Christine on the lower deck more or less her age. Together they decided to go to the third deck of the ship and sunbathe, to feel the cool wind, and be close to the sky. In the middle of the blue ocean everything was so marvellous that they forgot the time and did not realize that they were roasting. (She had white skin and lots of freckles). She was besotted with the sun (which can sometimes be very cruel), and the noise of the sea; but, at one point she understood that she was being burned by the heat. She does not even remember how she got to the cabin. That day she had a very high temperature and second degree burns. Her parents were very scared, but when she felt a little better her spirits were again at their peak! But what would the Macaggis say in Genoa about Claire’s daughter, her face full of scars?

She was dying to show off and be nice to them, as she had always heard her mother and aunt talk about their sister Rose’s daughter Gigetta, being so sophisticated, and so well bred, and she was none of the above. She was a tomboy who liked nice clothes but she always walked barefoot and regularly climbed the berry trees. The match with Gigetta was not right. But, on the other hand, she appreciated fine art. She loved beautiful things and ‘good living’.

Her mother was a wonderful cook and very meticulous about anything that she prepared. What a pity that she never told her all she saw and felt while she was alive and healthy! Why do we humans make so many mistakes, and later on pay so much money to psychologists and use so much energy to repair the damage we caused ourselves and to others!

While she studying at the French Lycee ‘Notre Dame de Sion’ the nuns had given her a composition to write- ‘Si Jeunesse savait et Vieillesse Pouvait’ meaning: If youth knew and elderly people could. Surely her mother was getting the vibrations of this writing.

Sorry! Back to Genoa. she, had a nice time there on the whole. They spoiled her a lot but also complained about her behaviour. However, she did not let that worry her too much. Her life motto at that point of her life was- ‘Not to be indifferent but be different.’ So be it!

They bought her presents, one a beautiful Celine Bag. She did not appreciate it then. She would have loved to have it at a later time in her life, but she really does not care anymore today. Now she walks with green ecological bags and is proud of it! She also understood that enthusiasm and spontaneity are wonderful qualities and virtues to use on special occasions, materially speaking for what goes never comes back again.

In the three weeks they were in Genoa she was quite lonely and annoyed too, as her parents had left for Switzerland for a week without her.

Professor Macaggi came for lunch every single day. He ate the pasta on the table with beautiful cutlery and washed his hands in the lemon scented water with lemon slices in the bowls. It became a regular routine for her. They took her to see a beautiful estate on the outskirts of Genoa. It was a very big farm with many farmers and lots and lots of cherries on the trees, all red and pink. She does not remember if she was allowed to pick them by herself.

Finally, her parents returned. Her father was still sick and her mother still quiet and shy. She blushed easily. She had a beautiful complexion, a coupe rosé, which made her appear to blush even more. Apparently she was in love with Professor Macaggi, but there was much she did not know.

The return to Istanbul was much quieter and calmer. There was no sun, and no deck. But she did learn something. On the boat there was an old man who studied the palm of her hand and said that she would be a writer. Ever since then she has been waiting for more than half a century. Now, the right time has come, but there are still so many questions on her mind.

In those times not many children would be travelling to Europe on a beautiful ship. She was seeing places and she felt privileged and a little grown up.

She finished high school with a boyfriend here and a boyfriend there, but she struck up long and lasting friendships with Sevim, Mengy, and Anita. They became a foursome that would go out very often to restaurants close to their school on the main street. Istanbul was then very cosmopolitan and they savoured Russian and Viennese food in the wonderful patisseries. When the time came for college, she wanted to go to the American College, but her mother insisted and decided that she should study in the French Lycée (college) one where the education was more formal and the discipline much stricter than in the former one. She strongly believed a good Jewish girl had to know French. In her childhood she had refused to speak French, but she fooled everyone that she could. She also took piano lessons. Her father was very much into art, ballet and music. She had at least four different teachers but she finished with all of them without really learning how to play the piano properly. She had a problem with every teacher and each teacher had a problem with her. Her parents did not really expect her to become a virtuoso but expected her to at least be able to play Fur Elise or some Chopin.

Today life is showing her so many other sides of everything that triviality is not a solution at all.

Do you remember Sevim, her high school friend? She was the first one who got married to a boy who wanted to leave for Israel after their marriage. So though there was happiness there was also some sadness because of Sevim’s departure. She would go to Sevim’s house as often as she could. While visiting Sevim once, the door bell rang. She opened the door; and in front of her stood a boy with penetrating, blue eyes. She noticed his loafers and then, when he sat down, she saw his white socks. She immediately fell in love with him on the spur of the moment. Apparently his name was Morris and was a friend of Sevim’s future husband from Israel. He had come to hug Sevim and wish her Mazal Tov because he was leaving for Israel the next day and would not be able to attend the wedding! She, on the other hand kept looking at Morris, and felt as though she had swallowed her tongue and could not utter one word. After some time, Morris left and she thought she had been so childish and stupid that she had made a fool of herself and would never see Morris again.

Things were hectic at Sevim’s house with all the preparations for the wedding, and she felt upset so she decided to go home. Her father had a black Citroen car and a driver who would take him to work and from time to time he would permit her to go out with her friends for a ride. On that specific Saturday, the car was available, so the driver and she went for a ride to the Bosphorus, where they usually stopped close to the sea and sat in a tea house, drinking tea and eating simit (bread with sesame seeds).

The place was always crowded and the beautiful Asian Continent beyond the Bosphorus seemed to be very close. There were boats and ships, and romantic couples walking hand in hand maybe thinking about their future! It was a truly a unique part in the world, but she hardly noticed; she was sad somehow, most probably because of Morris. So she asked the driver, who was a good friend to her, to go to the centre of the city and out of nowhere she saw Morris and in one minute he was in the car holding her hand and going back to the Bosphorus. There, Morris took her to a very nice café. It was amazing but true. Finally, when they got home, Morris gave her a kiss on the cheek, wrote down her address, said he would write and that she should also write back and tells him about Sevim and Rafa’s wedding.

A week later she received a post card from Morris and a new era of fantasies and day dreams and love started for her. She received letters every single day, sometimes even phone calls. She had finally found the love of her life. She was still at school but was only to do the last exams of the Notre Dame de Sion. Soon summer came. Her cousin Verda, a year older than her own seventeen years, worked in the Israeli Consulate in Istanbul. Her father, who was by now quite sick, permitted her, to work in the Israeli Consulate as a receptionist. She believed that would be a wonderful way to be closer to Morris. In reality, she was given the old, tiny and unused kitchen for her workspace. But she fixed the place up with pictures, flowers, plants, ashtrays and cigarettes. Soon it became an oasis instead of the dark, dull, small kitchen. She was kind and respectful to everyone. Soon, she would meet the Commercial Attaché, Zigmund Stopper. His eyes were also blue and he was very handsome. He used to come into the room with his fantastic smile, caress her hair and give her the names of the people he wanted her to call. And that was the start of her fantasy love! It was innocent, but she began to forget her feelings for Morris. She had pined for him for almost a year but Morris had not come back from Israel and she realized that a possible future with him would perhaps be only in her fertile imagination. She would go to the planet Mars everyday and come back and dream so easily. (Just close your eyes… and there… all your dreams come true.)

In the summer of 1959, her cousin Verda, the one who worked in the Israeli Consulate, came to spend the summer holidays with her. Verda was always well dressed and wore high heeled shoes and always looked older, whereas she would still be in casual clothes and wore loafers. One Saturday, in that summer of 1959, the door bell rang and Verda opened the door, wearing her red loafers and just a T-shirt, with no makeup and no lipstick. It was David, Morris’s friend from Israel and her childhood friend who went with her on bicycle rides and ate cheese toast. She had known David since they were thirteen years old and one day David had told her that his family would move to Israel and that was the last time she had seen him till now.

Now there was love in the air; for Verda and David fell head over heels in love. They were soon happily married in Istanbul and started a family. But Verda had told her about an attaché whom she had met in the Consulate, who worked in the Israeli Embassy in Ankara (Capital of Turkey) who was very nice, not married but short. He also spoke Turkish and had invited Verda to lunch.

She was very keen on meeting this young attaché as she had had enough of Morris’s bluffs and Stopper’s teasing. The young attaché was a diplomat; and that attracted her! She had met many Israelis. It was fascinating for a nineteen year old girl.

She tried very hard to please Mr. Stopper with his requests as he was always in a hurry. This time he had asked for I.C.I. She had no idea what it was, and how to discover it. Soon, she saw a short, bald man who smiled and said Hello (Merhaba, in Turkish). She had no doubt that he was the person Verda had spoken of. He was in his thirties and after some small talk during which he explained the meaning of I.C.I, she too was invited for lunch. His name was Rudy. Verda, by then was going steady with David, so Stelah was free to go out with Rudy. The lunch was quite nice. He left a good tip. This made her very happy. He seemed to be very interesting. Suddenly she had an immense urge to find out more about this mysterious man and his colourful life… Soon her imagination started working full time. She made a spy out of him and she was the heroine, Mata Hari, who she had learned about from the books she read. She admired her intelligence, spontaneity and power.

There were lots of phone calls to and from Istanbul and Ankara. She enjoyed the games. She loved games; games of the mind, games in fantasy worlds and games in real life. But real life games were very different. She did not realize it until it was too late.

By the end of the summer Morris came back from Israel. When she saw him it was like seeing a stranger. All the passion and love that had tormented her in her make believe world was not real at all. She was able to build and destroy it all in one session. There was no need to make things up. It was all there.

Morris did not look at all like the person she had fallen in love with. When he tried to kiss her and touch her breasts, instead of fainting from joy or passion, she did not find it the least bit romantic. She pulled back and told him she did not want to be touched. It was not long before this special and passionate romance came to an end. It is really difficult to understand how your mind can play tricks on you.

She learned to discover all these feelings only after many years of trying hard, learning and believing and putting her thoughts and feelings in their proper prospective.

Finally, she was free of love, out of it. She just was not in love any more. They are such different feelings, but she thought she felt all three of these feelings. Most probably she was attracted to Rudy because of his maturity. Perhaps she thought he would be more like a father who would be able to show her the good and the bad and more…

She had seen it in her father, but only for a short