Through the Eyes of the Spirit

By Elizabeth H. Winters

Fifteen-year-old Samantha has just accepted Jesus Christ as her Savior when she becomes curious about an old cottage on her parents land that seems to beckon her to come inside. One day after questioning her father about the cottage, he tells her about Mrs. May, the woman with a steadfast faith in God who once lived there. Now even more curious, Samantha knows she must see what is in that house.

After her first visit to the cottage goes horribly wrong, Mrs. Mays spirit comes to Samantha in several dreams, eventually informing her she is ready to fulfill her destiny and where to find a box hidden under the cottages floorboards with contents that cannot be revealed until it is Gods timeand with the power to impact the world. Now in a vicious battle with an enemy desperate to keep the boxs contents a secret, Samantha must risk everything to retrieve the box before the cottage is torn down by her father. Only one question remains: what is in the box that the enemy does not want her to have?

In this inspirational tale, a teenager who is unwittingly beckoned into a new future filled with danger and a powerful foe is about to learn that it is Gods will, not hers, that will guide her destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491748008

Elizabeth H. Winters

Elizabeth H. Winters is a devout, born-again Christian who is the mother of two adult children. She resides in upstate New York with her husband of thirty-plus years where she loves gardening, painting, and reading. This is her first book.

Book preview

Chapter One

IT WAS A COLD, DARK,

starless night. As I lay in bed, I slowly pulled the covers up to my chin trying to keep warm. There was just a little pan of embers now, dying down. It was the last of my heat. As I watched them, my mind floated to the time when I was young and happy.

I could feel the radiant warmth on my face. I felt so alive, and I was watching the rebirth of everything from trees getting their leaves, to flowers popping their heads out of the earth. I would go down to the brook to taste the cool, fresh water, or, sometimes, just to walk barefoot through it, watching the fish swim away as I walked. I remember standing there and watching a mother deer and two of her babies drinking from the stream. Oh, how my heart delighted in seeing the beautiful birds flying in the air. As I walked through the meadow, I thought how perfect, how beautiful my life was.

I could hear my mother calling me for lunch, but there was one more thing I had to do. A couple of days before, I heard my parents talking about the old cottage that was on our land. It was old and worn down. No one could ever live in it again, and Dad was talking about tearing it down. I wanted to see the cottage, even though my parents told me to stay away from it. As I walked toward it, I could see that it was old, and everything was grown up around it. The fence needed paint, and the little gate door was broken off. There were weeds, and some small trees were dead in the pathway that lead up to the house. I could see that there were curtains hanging in the window, but they were so worn out, ragged, and faded from the sun. The house looked so sad, as I was standing there looking at it.

Something caught my eye. In the right hand corner of the upstairs window, something was gleaming. I don’t know if it was the sun making it gleam, but it seemed there was something in that window. I opened the broken gate, never taking my eyes off whatever was in the window. Then it turned into a small sphere of rainbow colors. It was as though I was being pulled toward the house. I was scared. I could feel my heart beating, and my breathing was getting faster. I started to feel scared, I was even shaking a little, but that gleaming thing would not let me go. As I carefully walked down the path of the house, I saw broken branches, and I stumbled over them.

Finally, I was at the old porch. As I stepped onto the first rotted step, I could hear the creek of the board under my foot. I took another step, getting closer to the old door. I had my eyes fixed on the doorknob. I slowly walked across the boards. Sometimes it sounded like the boards were going to break. Once or twice I had to stop, then go step by step again.

As the door was getting closer, my heart was beating so hard. As I slowly reached for the doorknob, I heard my father calling me. I stood there and thought, just turn the doorknob and go upstairs to that corner window and see what that glowing thing is, but I knew I had to obey. With a deep breath, I turned around, and stepping on the same boards going back down the steps, I ran down the path to the old broken gate.

As I was running I could hear my father’s voice call again, and I called back to him. I could see my father’s arms extended toward me, and, as always, I would run into his arms and give him a big hug.

With a smile, my dad said, It’s time to eat, Sam.

While sitting at the table eating my lunch, I couldn’t get that cottage or that gleaming thing out of my mind. I hurried and ate. Excitement grew as I contemplated going back to the house.

I got up from the table, reached for my jacket, and Dad said, Sam, he always shortened Samantha, why don’t you come with me to the market today? I have to see Mr. Cummings about the horses he’s selling at the auction. You can help me a lot, and I know you love feeding and riding the horses. I sure could use your help today.

I was crushed. How could he ask me, today of all days, to go with him? I do love going with my father. We have so much fun, but it’s an all-day thing. We will get to the market, and Dad will talk to a zillion people he knows, and I will see some of my school friends and say hi to them. Then we’re off to another store. Not today, God. Please, not today.

Mom insisted I go because she wasn’t feeling well. What else could I do but go and have that cottage and that glowing thing on my mind?

I thought what I’d do was to hurry him along, and maybe, just maybe, we’d get back before dark.

All the way there I kept thinking about what that gleaming thing could be. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was my eyes playing tricks on me, but what if it was a magical thing that only I could see? Oh, I had to get back to the cottage.

You’re a little quiet today, said Dad. Is there anything you want to talk about?

I couldn’t tell him about going to the cottage, so I said, I heard you tell Mom that you were going to tear down the old cottage in a couple weeks. Were you really going to tear it down?

Well, I was thinking about it. You know that house can be dangerous if someone tries to go inside. The steps and porch look like a good gust of wind could blow it down. That’s why your mother and I don’t want you to go near it. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt.

Yeah, I know, Dad. Do you know who used to live there?

I do remember my parents telling me a story about an old woman living there. They said she was the sweetest person, and she loved her God. Once a week when my grandparents were young, they would go over with the other children in the neighborhood to listen to Mrs. May, I think that’s what they called her, tell stories of the Bible. They said she was married, and her husband was a woodsman. He cut down trees and sold animal skins for a living.

They couldn’t have made much money doing just that, could they?

Back then, they lived off the land and only had the basic things they needed to live. Not like today. There’s the ‘I wants’ and the ‘I need’, and the ‘I wants’ win out.

What are we, Dad?

Well, the way I tried to raise you is to be content, and I think you’re happier for it. Aren’t you?

Yes I think so. I see other kids that have so much more, and they’re sad, bored, and want more and more stuff. What’s funny, Dad, is most of my friends are not happy, and they have way more than I do.

I guess I raised you right then.

I guess you did. I don’t want to talk about people, but I noticed their parents aren’t happy either. Their homes are beautiful. They have everything, but you can still see the sadness. Like Jenny’s home. Her parents work all the time. When she talks to me, she cries and tells me her father drinks, and her mother is on some kind of pills, and she hardly sees them. When they are together, they fight quite often. Dad, it just seems like the more they have the sadder they are. I don’t get it.

It’s called being materialistic. They see something new, and they want it, thinking it’s going to make them happy. Within a couple days, weeks, or months, they are buying something else to make them happy. They don’t know that happiness is from within, that it’s not what is on the outside.

I know, Dad. That’s what you keep telling me. Also you told me that when we are born, we are born with a hollow spot in our heart that only God can fill, so when we get old enough, we would feel that longing and emptiness for Him. Dad, that longing is supposed to be for God and not things right?

Right. But a lot of people don’t know that. They think that longing or that hole that they feel can be filled with stuff, and it can’t. The only thing that can fill that emptiness is Jesus himself. That’s why people try to fill that emptiness with pills, alcohol, anger, and things, but it can’t be filled with earthly things, only spiritual things.

It’s sad. They will never let their hearts be filled with Jesus.

Yes it is, Sam.

I’m so happy you raised me to know the difference.

Me too.

Now back to Mrs. May.

All right. Mrs. May was married and had three children, two girls and a boy. What I heard was her husband died in a hunting accident. A year after that, her son died. Then three years after that, there was a sickness that came around, and her two daughters died.

That is awful. That poor woman. Who took care of her? How did she keep up the house, get food, and firewood?

The church, Sam. They helped her out a little, and the community did, too, but she would always say: ‘My Lord will provide.’ She still loved the Lord, even with everything that she went through, and no matter what came along.

I heard her faith was strong. I hope I have that kind of faith.

Why do you say that Sam?

We live in this world. We need that kind of faith.

Yes, we do Sam. Yes, we do. Let me pray for you. Father in heaven, we don’t know what each day will bring, so I ask you to give Samantha a supernatural faith that nothing can take away. Thank you, Father.

Thanks, Dad. Why did you pray for supernatural faith?

You never know what’s coming. Getting back to Mrs. May, she had more faith then anyone in this town. The neighbors would say she would have the biggest and brightest flowers, and when there was a drought, she would feed the community from her little garden until they were full.

You’re telling me that out of her little garden she fed the town?

Yes, she did with help from the Lord.

Of course.

She would tell stories from the Bible, and you would feel like you were part of the story. One time, my grandparents had told me that when they grew up, they could see things happening just as she told them it would.

Like what, Dad?

Well Mrs. May said, ‘People’s hearts will grow cold, and they will not see a need for God anymore.’ Your grandparents saw their first robbery, and that man killed his victim. That was the shock of the town. It was in all the newspapers, and everyone was talking about it. More and more evil things started happening, and then it was just like an everyday thing. People’s hearts became hardened by what was happening, and they didn’t give it much thought anymore.

But hasn’t it always been like that?

No, honey, it hasn’t.

"Dad, we are at the Market.

Boy that trip was fast. It must have been all the talking and your questions.

Maybe, Dad.

Let’s get going.

You won’t take that long, will you, Dad?

What are you in such a hurry for, Sam?

Oh, nothing. I just thought we would get back before dark. That’s all.

Well, we’ll cut it close. I still have to see the horses at Mr. Cummings.

Yeah, I know.

Chapter Two

"DO WE HAVE EVERYTHING IN

the car? Dad asked. We don’t want to forget anything, or we will have to come back tomorrow."

No. Dad?

What, Sam?

I mean yes, we have everything, and we won’t have to come back tomorrow.

Okay. Get in the car and were off to see Mr. Cummings.

Dad what time is it?

Four o’clock, Sam. Why?

Well, if we hurry to Mr. Cummings then we might be back to help Mom with dinner since she doesn’t feel very good.

That’s nice of you to be thinking of your mother.

I felt a little guilty because I wasn’t thinking of Mom. I was thinking of Mrs. May’s cottage and that glowing thing in the window. I just had to get back there to take another look.

Sam, how about if we skip Mr. Cummings today? I suppose I can go tomorrow.

That would be great, I said. My heart leapt from trying to control my excitement. So, Dad, please tell me more about Mrs. May.

All right. What I can remember is your grandparents telling me that this community was a great place. Outsiders would stop by and say it was almost mystical.

Why, Dad?

The strangers would say there was so much peace that they could feel a godly presence. People loved and helped each other. When someone didn’t have enough of something, the others would give to that person. Then if the person who had given needed something done, someone else might fill that need.

Like what dad?

"Let’s see. If they needed their house door fixed, the person who was given to would fix the giver’s door, so there wasn’t anyone being taking advantage of. If someone was in need of something they would get it, but they still had to work for it. As the Lord says, ‘you don’t work, you don’t eat’, and they knew that the Lord was always right, so they followed his teachings. Everyone benefited from it.

There was hardly any sickness, he continued. When someone did come down sick, people would take him to Mrs. May to be prayed over, and the whole community also would pray. God would answer their prayers because of their obedience. Your grandparents said that Sundays were the best time.

Dad, how was Sundays the best time?

You know better.

Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I mean, it just seems that there is so much to do on Sundays.

But Sam, you have to understand that all the stores were closed on Sundays in order to obey the Lord’s command to keep the Lord’s Day holy, and it was set aside for praise and worship. After church, the families would go home thinking and talking about what the minister had preached on. Then they would try to live their lives the way the Lord wanted them to. They took God seriously, Sam.

But we take God seriously, don’t we?

Yes we do, Sam. Even though we slip up sometimes, but we still try our best to follow God’s commands.

We are sinners, right?

Yes, honey. All of us were born in sin. But because Jesus died for us, and we accepted Jesus as our Savior, our sins are forgiven. When we go to God with a contrite heart and ask for forgiveness, we are forgiven. Then we are accepted as his children and can live in heaven with him. But the important thing is not to give up. You keep on trying to do what God wants.

Yes, Dad, never give up on God.

"Exactly. Getting back to the community. Sundays were the best because everyone prayed, worshiped God and ate together. Everyone brought his own meal and shared with each other. Even the ones that didn’t bring anything would be welcomed to eat. They would be given extra food so they could bring some home and have it the next day. If there weren’t enough chairs, the ones that brought the food would let the others sit and eat while they stood up. I remember your grandparents saying that one Sunday a couple ladies who usually brought food were not feeling well, so they were a little short on stew. There were a lot of people at the church to feed that day.

"Mrs. May went to the house of these two ladies and asked if she could use their biggest, empty pots. The women were a little puzzled at why Mrs. May would want their empty pots, but they gave them to her anyway. As Mrs. May was going out the door, the two ladies heard her say, ‘the Lord will provide’. Mrs. May shut the door and walked down the street to the church building, and right into the kitchen. She put the big pots on the stove, then went into the sanctuary where the congregation had already started praising and worshiping God. After, that they gathered in the big room to sit down and eat. They gave thanks.

"Then the servers went into the kitchen. They saw two big pots of warm beef and lamb stew ready to eat. They didn’t think anything odd or unusual about it, so they served the stew to everyone. No one was left out, and there was still more left that the poor could bring home.

The next day, Dad continued, "when a few people met up with the two ladies that were sick and asked them if they could get there recipe for that pot of beef and lamb stew, the ladies were confused. They said they had been sick and didn’t make anything, but, Mrs. May had come to their homes and got their empty pots.

"‘She must have made it’, said one woman, ‘but how could she have had the time’? The other woman said, ‘Mrs. May couldn’t have made it. She was with the congregation praising God’. The first woman said, ‘Mrs. May did say, God will provide and promptly went away thanking God’. The story went all over town and some of Mrs. May’s neighbors went over to see her and to tell her what was being said about her beef and lamb stew.

Mrs. May said it wasn’t her or her stew, Dad continued. She just asked God to provide. ‘Why are you all surprised’? Mrs. May asked. ‘If God can make the universe and everything in it and make water turn into wine, don’t you think he can make stew? So praise God for what you have, including the stew’.

Dad, did that really happen?

I’ve never known my parents to lie to me, so I think, yes, it did happen, and you know that story had been told for years about Mrs. May and the stew that God provided

That is awesome, Dad. Do you think it was because of Mrs. May’s faith in God that it happened?

Yes I do. Mrs. May’s supernatural faith.

I want that supernatural faith, Dad.

I prayed God would give it to you, Sam.

While Dad was driving I thought about everything we talked about and the excitement grew even stronger to get back to the cottage, Mrs. May’s house. What would I find there? Would some of her things still be there like furniture, clothes, her Bible or even pictures? That would be so great, to find her Bible or pictures from the past. I would be able to see what she looked like.

Then my mind went back to the gleaming sphere. What was that? What could it be?

I could feel my heart beat fast again as I thought about it. I’d only go over there one more time. I have to find out, maybe I’ll find something of hers. Just one more time.

Chapter Three

DAD WHAT TIME IS IT?

It’s ten after five, Samantha.

So we should be home by seven, right?

Yes.

I could tell Dad was getting a little irritated at me asking him about the time, so I decided to calm down and just ride. About the same time I asked Dad about the time, we passed people on the side of the road. It looked like they were having tire trouble. Dad slowed down then turned around.

Dad, what are you doing?

Someone needs help.

Dad, it’s going to be dark by the time we get home.

Yes, it probably will, but when a person needs help, we need to help them.

But, Dad—

That’s what you do, Sam.

I sat there wondering how long this was going to take. Dad didn’t even know these people. Couldn’t they put the tire on themselves?

Dad stopped the car, and I could see a woman. Two children sat in the back seat. As Dad got out of the car, I saw him go to the back tire, then to the woman’s trunk. He pulled out a jack and began to take off the tire to put on a spare one. Then he stood there talking to her.

Doesn’t Dad know that I want to get back home?

As he started coming toward our car, I quickly turned around and just looked out the window. As Dad got back into the car, I could feel him glance at me. He put the car into drive, and we drove off.

Sam, what is going on with you? That woman needed help, and for your information, she was on her way to the hospital because the baby was sick. We should always help someone when we can. That’s part of why we’re here. Not for our own desires, but what we can do for others. I hope you can understand that.

I was still looking out the window while Dad was talking to me.

Samantha, when you put yourself before others, that’s being selfish. I would have never thought my daughter would be selfish and act like that.

I felt my heart drop and my eyes well up in tears. Something inside me was telling me I was wrong, and Dad was right. I was being selfish. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to act that way. I guess it’s just because I’m tired and—

"I don’t want to hear any of your excuses. There is no excuse for selfishness.

I know, and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.

Okay, I’ll accept that. Honey, I love you, but remember that we always have to be on guard that we don’t allow the attitude of the world into our lives. If we let it in and don’t correct it, selfishness, like anything else, can grow until it’s part of our character. Understand, Sam?

Yes, I do.

Okay. That’s my girl. We’re almost home. Another thirty minutes.

As I sat there, I knew Dad was right, and I asked Jesus to forgive me of the sin of selfishness. I never wanted that back. It made me feel terrible.

I wonder how Mom is feeling. I don’t think we are going to make it home in time to help her make dinner, I said.

I think she will forgive us. Your mother is a forgiving person.

Yes, I know. She had me, didn’t she?

Dad smiled. I am not going to touch that one.

I couldn’t help but smile back.

Finally we were home. Home sweet home.

Dad, I’ll get the things out of the car, so you can go and see how Mom is.

I can grab a few things.

As Dad was going into the house, my mind wandered back to the cottage. It was too late to go over, and I wouldn’t be able to see anything in the dark anyway.

So I would wake up early the next morning, get my chores done and go right over. I couldn’t wait.

Chapter Four

AS I WAS BRINGING THINGS

into the house, I could see Mom at the stove keeping the food warm. Hi, Mom."

Hi, honey.

How are you feeling?

I’m okay. Go wash up before your supper gets cold.

Where is Dad? I asked as I washed my hands at the sink.

He is putting the rest of the meat in the freezer. He’ll be right back in.

How are you doing, my darling? Dad said to Mom.

I’m fine, sit down, both of you, before dinner gets cold.

Are you eating, Kathy?

I ate earlier. You and Samantha sit down and eat.

Then Dad began to pray. Father, I want to thank you for this day, and what you provide for us. Amen.

Yes, because you are the God that provides, I had to add.

I see you learned something today, Samantha, said Mom.

I learned a lot today mom. Your meatloaf tastes so good. You’re going to have to show me how to make it.

Mom looked back at me and gave me that special smile only she could give. As I ate, again, my mind went back to the cottage and everything that Dad told me about Mrs. May.

Do you know anything about Mrs. May and the Cottage, Mom?

Let me think. My parents told me the community loved her, and she had so much faith that when she was around, beautiful things would happen.

Like what, Mom?

Well I remember my parents telling me that one day, as she was walking to the market, there was this little boy that had been playing and somehow he skinned his knee and was crying so hard that Mrs. May heard him. She went over to the boy and put her hand on his knee, and he stopped crying. The knee was healed instantly. Then she gave him a good talking to about climbing the fence because she knew that his parents told him not to. The little boy went off playing again, acting like nothing even happened. Mrs. May hollered at him.

No one, not even his parents, said anything to her? said Sam.

"Oh, they said a lot to him, said Mom. When he got home, he got a slap on the butt, and no, they wouldn’t have said anything to Mrs. May or to any neighbor for telling them their boy was doing something wrong. That’s just the way it was. The community would watch out for the kids, so they wouldn’t do something wrong. If they did, then the parents would find out, and they would take care of it. That’s where the term having eyes in back of your head came from. No matter where your children were, they were being watched to make sure they didn’t get hurt or do something wrong.

All in all, the children were good kids, Mom continued. There was a lot of respect, from the children respecting the parents to the parents respecting the community. It just all worked out for everyone. Doesn’t God say, obey your parents and you will have a long life? Well, if the whole community is your parent, then they will help keep you on the right path along with your parents.

That must have been hard for the kids if everyone was watching them, I said.

Sam, you’re assuming that the kids wanted to make wrong choices, and then everyone would know about it. Not really. Only the one that saw what happened and the parents would know. After the situation was taken care of, that was it. No one else would hear about it. It kept the kids accountable, and they grew into good, productive adults.

Not like today. Right, Mom?

No, sadly, not like today. A lot of parents don’t know how to be parents, or they are so wrapped up in themselves that the child is bringing himself up, instead of the parents leading the child. But you know, Sam, they don’t even know how much they are hurting their child.

What do you mean?

"Well, if a child doesn’t learn respect, and he doesn’t respect anyone, then no one wants that child around. If the parents don’t teach the child self-control, the child just does anything that he or she wants to do.

Then the child thinks he or she owns everything and treats it as such. They grow up to be spoiled, selfish and self-serving. So you see, Sam, it’s like the child doesn’t have parents, they bring themselves up. That’s why God gave us instructions on how to raise a child, so the parents can be proud of him or her, so children will be productive in the world and in serving God.

I think it’s sad, Mom, because it’s not the child’s fault. It’s the parents, but it’s the child that pays for it.

I know. I know.

I’ll help you with the dishes. Then can I just go to bed? I’m so tired.

That’s okay. Your father can help me clean up. You go take your shower, and hop into bed.

Is that okay, Dad? Can you help Mom tonight?

I know it’s been a long day for you, so you go ahead. I’ll help Mom tonight, but you’ll be doing dishes and cleaning up tomorrow.

Thank you so much. I love you both, good night, I said walking away. As I lay in bed, my mind drifted back to everything that was said, about how different the community was back then. Thinking of Mrs. May, I just had to get over to the cottage the next day. I was thinking about the cottage as I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up to the smell of sausage cooking and Mom humming a song like she always did when she cooked. I was hungry.

I hopped out of bed, got dressed, made my bed, and hurriedly picked up my room. I thanked God for the beginning of a beautiful day. Just then, the thought of the cottage sprang into my mind. I looked out the window and saw a robin feeding her young in a tree next to my window. The sun was shining, and there was a nice breeze. Perfect. I rushed down stairs to see Mom fixing my plate and putting it down on the table.

"Good morning, Mom.

I fixed you some eggs and sausage. I hope you’re hungry?

I am starving. Where’s Dad?

He went to Mr. Cummings. Something to do with the horses."

Oh, yeah. Dad said he was going this morning. How do you feel this morning?

I’m little tired, but I’ll be just fine.

Mom, do you ever wished we lived back in the old days.

What do you mean?

In the old days, things just seem to be so simple.

In some ways they were, but in some ways they weren’t.

Like how, Mom?

"Instead of going to the market, you would have a garden, would kill deer or bear for food. You would raise your own beef, and can food for the winter months.

You would have to bring in wood for heat, which would mean going out chopping wood, and you had no bathrooms with hot water for showers.

No bathrooms! How did people live?

I could see Mom laughing at me as she said, I know, hot showers and washing your hair every day is a must. But being serious, Samantha, the good thing about it was people believed in God with their whole heart, mind and soul. They tried hard to live the way the Lord wanted them to. They were like minded.

What do you mean?

Like minded means they believed the same thing. Like Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of a virgin, was crucified, died for our sins on a cross and rose again. Jesus was their God, and they were his people. Do you understand?

Yes, Mom.

Mom and I cleaned up the kitchen and put the dishes away.

"Thank you. I think