Treasure and Hope
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About this ebook
I said this is not a book, but a writing note pad. She responded, yes it is a gift for you to write down you're dreams and visions beginning from childhood. Remember to share it with the world.
Beatrice Martinez
Beatrice Martinez was born in Guatemala and raised in the town of Punta Gorda, Belize. She then came to United States of America in 1983 at the age of seventeen. She is a surgical technician with seventeen year of experience in the field. She is married with three sons, and currently resides in Beaumont, California.
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Treasure and Hope - Beatrice Martinez
© 2009 Beatrice Martinez. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 10/01/2020
ISBN: 978-1-4490-5243-0 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4520-3161-3 (e)
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
Michael and the Healing Waters of the Well
Prophet Eli and the Pelican
Remembrance Day
ILLUS%20A.jpgMICHAEL AND THE HEALING
WATERS OF THE WELL
When I was fourteen years old, I had an unforgettable experience. That night, my cousin was making unbearable snoring sounds that wouldn’t let me sleep. My eyes were closed, but I was consciously aware when someone touched my shoulder and called me by my nickname, Tish!
Immediately, I opened my eyes to witness the presence of a tall, slender, fearsome warrior who was glowing in bright colors. His appearance was like that of an African Masai, but perfect, and the shape of his body was like no men of earth. His head was slightly tilted up, as if he were looking at the corner ceiling, but he wasn’t; his eyes were looking down, watching me.
His brown olive skin glowed like golden bronze, and his green garment shone in light. In his hand he carried a metal empty pail, and above his head, a rainbow appeared, colored red, purple, and green. The colors were so overwhelmingly bright that instantly I fell into a conscious state of trance. Although I was in a state of trance, my spirit being was filled with fear, but this fearsome man calmed my fear and spoke to me mentally, saying, Tish, peace be with you, and don’t be afraid.
With his glowing hand, he touched the side of my forehead and smiled.
Instantly, my spirit cried out loud. Archangel Michael, it is you! Waaaw! It’s been a long time since I heard your voice, and now I get to see you, I said to him mentally.
With his appearance glowing in lights, I began remembering praying to God, asking him to please send Archangel Michael to free me from the presence of dark shadows that would come to torment me at night. As I’d pray, the dark shadows would quickly disappear, and I would hear the voice of Michael speaking to people and mentioning my name from behind my bed’s headboard. But I was never able to see him, until now. At the same time, I remembered how, on another night, while sleeping, I heard his voice saying, Hey! Tish, get up, take this pail of water, and let’s go to the barracks—the soldiers need water to drink.
In my conscious mind, I would say, "Okay; I’ll do it tomorrow morning, for it’s still nighttime." But all of a sudden, I was slapped painfully hard on my shoulder, and instantly, I was awakened by the presence of bright, beautiful colors shining before me; then I fainted and lost total consciousness. The next thing I remember was exiting a military vessel, at a shore, in a dream. I was going into a battlefield alongside a tall, handsome, reddish-skinned, green-eyed Irishman, who said to me he was the chief commander of the navy fleet.
As he spoke, instantly I knew it was my friend Michael, for his voice never changes, even though he came to me as a navy commander. I remembered carrying along with me an empty cup and a pail of water; my duty was to give soldiers water to drink. I would begin by giving water to those who were dying on the shore first. After they drank the water, they smiled and died peacefully. Soon, the sun shone strong on them, and they disappeared into the sunlight.
Then, moments later, a soldier came me and said his nickname was Skippy and that he had no more whiskey to drink, nor to pour on his gangrened foot, and to please fill his empty whiskey bottle with drinking water. After I poured water into his whiskey bottle, he began drinking it. After he drank, he reached into his knapsack and took out a brown paper bag with bread, and he went to share it with some soldiers at a barracks on the other side of the field. After eating and drinking, they became strong, left the barracks, and went into battle.
As I was remembering my dreams and the rest of my childhood encounters with him, he smiled and said, Tish, in the name of our almighty father who sent me to you once again this day, I bring forth my wounded soldiers, for they are thirsty and weary from the battle of Ireland. Take this pail, go to the well, and fetch a pail of water, then take it to them at the field, for they are there waiting for you; so give them drink.
Then in a loud voice, he said, O Emmanuel, O Emmanuel, may your presence be with us.
He came and stood beside me, and he no longer glowed in colors; neither was I able to see his face anymore, for he grew so tall. Suddenly, I was no longer in a state of trance; I was now able to open my mouth and speak.
Michael,
I said to him, It’s dark outside, and my grand-auntie Chica don’t let us go to the well at night, only at daytime.
In fact, she wouldn’t even let us go to the field late at night, because she feared that the aliens in spaceships might land there and take us with them into the Mayan ruins. He answered, It is daytime. Open the front door and take a look outside.
I did.
He was right, it was daytime, and I saw the wounded soldiers on the field. Some were lying on stretchers, and others were sitting down on the grass tired, wounded, and bleeding from within wrapped bandages. They looked at me with sad faces and began to cry out loud, saying, Hey! Tish, please help us!
Help us please, Tish.
Give us water,
Water, water, water … please, Tish.
I began to cry and said to them, I am going to get you the water.
With so much pain in my heart, I wailed out loud towards the skies and prayed. Almighty God the Father, maker of all living things in this planet and all the others, please have mercy on the soldiers, I beg. Heal all their wounds. Mercy, please! And thank you, father, from the bottom of my heart for thy mercy and for listening to my supplications I pray.
And Michael answered and said, May his will be done. Amen.
"Michael, would you please