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Rescue Circles Part 11

By:Richard Rowley
Date: Mon,30 Aug 2010
Submitter:Richard Rowley
Views:6379

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Rescue Circles working here and over there( 11) More
of Dowding’s cases. Mrs. Hill’s Circle.

CASE # 5

(A caricature of a haughty and affected female voice.) SPIRIT I was invited to come here, or else I should not have come. Who are you? I would like an explanation. I was mingled with the common herd, and
I was brought here. Will you please understand that it was not by my wish that I was brought here at all; I am not interested.

QM (Chair Person of the Rescue Circle) We are here to help you.

SPIRIT Have I been brought here for something worse?
QM No, not at all. We want to try to tell you about eternal life.
SPIRIT That has been my downfall, not knowing about eternal life.
QM (tries to explain how no life can ever come to an end.)
SPIRIT You know that sounds rather life a fairy-tale. Where have you had your knowledge from?
QM From people like yourself who have come to talk to us.
DOWDING (Taking over here, because she will not descend from her pedestal of insufferable conceit and condescension.) Trust the man who has brought you. You can make no progress till you have learned the
virtues of humility.
QM That was Air Chief Marshal Lord Dowding, leader in the Battle of Britain.
SPIRIT (Sounding absolutely amazed) And he has condescended to come HERE?

We all laugh. We explain that one can take neither rank nor riches across the Valley. Nothing counts but what one has made of oneself during life. Her whole tone and appearance gradually changes.

SPIRIT (In a gentle voice) O God, make me humble. Teach me to be humble.
QM What is your name?
SPIRIT Countess Alice (She won’t give her full name.) If he (Dowding) can do it, all can do it.


CASE # 6

A friendly visit from an ex-patient, Sister Sympathica
(see case # 3, in previous article), a nun who killed her
baby and herself. The priest who was the father would not own up.

SPIRIT I am so grateful. The baby is grown up now. I was in misery. (Kisses QM’s hands).


CASE # 7

SPIRIT Please show me the way. Do I have to say
I’m sorry for what I have done? I was desperate;
what could I have done? Have you ever gambled?
QM No. That’s not a sensible or profitable occupation.
SPIRIT What is the end? Suicide. I did my wife in first. She never knew that I had lost all. We were going to have had a baby. I thought death was
the end, but found that it was not. I have not got her, let alone the baby. Oh, why are we not told these things?
DOWDING You very probably WERE told at some time or other, but in any case, if a Spiritualist had tried to tell you the truth, you would not have listened.
SPIRIT Even if I had not accepted it, it would
have remained in my mind. Not if I had known it when
I threw myself through that window. I was brought up
in the Church, but left it. My name is Harold Smart;
I was TOO smart!

We told him that his baby was alive, though never
born on earth, and that someday he would meet his wife
again with the child.


CASE # 8 The most extraordinary incident was the
case of a racehorse owner who had had a troublesome
jockey murdered. He had had a favorite horse called
Starlight, and he (in the body of the medium) was
telling the Circle about its gleaming chestnut coat,
when he suddenly stretched out his arms and called,
“Why, Starlight!” And out of the air came a contented
little snicker, a noise such as a horse makes when its
master comes round to the stable on a Sunday morning
with a pocketful of sugar.


Now we will take another look at rescue work
done on the other side, through the writing medium
Mrs. Hill and her guide, who was her deceased father
Colonel Gascoigne. Out of a large number of cases sent
to Lord Dowding, he chose to publish the following:
“The first is from a Gunner Subaltern. He
doesn’t say where he was killed, but I think it was in
Italy.”

“ It was very good of your father to let me write
through you; yes, we do a lot of work together, I am
very glad to help.
I was a gunner, and much older than most of the
men whom I was commanding, but that didn’t seem to
matter when we received a direct hit and were all
bowled out. I could gather my wits together quicker
than they could, and I saw your father and brought him
into our Mess, and I tell you it WAS a mess !… though
we’d got away from our bodies no one really knew what
had happened; some of them were beginning to see,
others were catching snatches of music in between
horrible memories of the actual fighting. I think now
it must have felt like a madhouse coming into our
circle, but your father wasn’t in the least surprised.
I got a lot into a little pocket behind a knoll
from which they couldn’t see their bodies; I was
scared that they’d get out and see all the refuse of
our camp, but luckily they hadn’t got the hang of
walking, so that didn’t happen.
It’s queer how the habit of thinking of someone
else helps one in a crisis like this; I don’t
remember thinking about myself at all; I just wasn’t
‘there’ so as to matter, but I saw and heard and felt
everything. I saw the men as my children; it was my
job to guard and help them. They were all at sixes
and sevens, some seemed to be going through awful
nightmares; others were asleep, dead asleep, from
which we couldn’t rouse them others were in a sort of
coma, very drowsy. I grasped it all quite suddenly
and called for aid. It had become a habit of mine,
and I felt confident that someone would turn up, and
very soon I saw Harris, the Captain who had been our
adjutant and had been killed three days earlier. I
saw him and tried to reach him, but my feet … well,
they wouldn’t work; I could go up and down, but not
along the ground, it was too maddening, I felt like
Alice in Wonderland! I laughed and yelled to him and
he heard and saw me floundering about in the air, like
a daddy-longlegs as he described it.
‘Oh, you, is it,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d know
your clumsy feet. Treading on air are you? Well how
d’you like it?’
This fairly sobered me, and I liked him better
for that downright welcome and chaff than for any
amount of sympathy.
“Oh,’ I said, trying to look as though it were
all quite natural, ‘Can you give me a line on this
joint (place), I haven’t done a course on the death
penalty!’
We talked on like that; I was hysterical, but it
helped me, and made it all seem more natural. He came
down to where I was; he saw my people scattered about
and spotted my batman Jones; he wasn’t much of a
soldier; delicate sort of fellow, not a heavy sleeper
at any time, and now he was waking up and looking for
all the world like a shocked dormouse. I think he was
hurt and disappointed at not being met by at least an
Apostle, and seemed inclined to doze off again, but
just couldn’t face life at first, he was distressed at
leaving his body and wanted to go and find it, and he
couldn’t think why our Lord hadn’t met him. I didn’t
think about it; I knew it was a futile thought; who
were we to be met by the Lord of Heaven? Anyhow, we
weren’t properly dead; at least that’s how it seemed
to me.
Harris joked and scolded and got him at last to
forget himself and we tried to wake a few of the
others, but it WAS such hard work, I felt utterly
exhausted; at last Harris put his hand on my shoulder
and said,
‘James, old man, you’ve done your spot, come
and rest’ ….. and he brought me to your father.

(Writing next day) Yes please, may I finish?
Well, I met your father in real earnest; you see he
had been there all the time, but he couldn’t help us
much at that stage, excepting by standing close, and
wishing us power.
Soon, when the weariness had left us, I saw the
living force which I was drawing from him, and I lived
again in the Power that he gave me. It was all new to
me; it was like eating, drinking, rest and exercise
all in one. I felt and knew that I was near a dynamo,
I was transformed. I was happy and confident and knew
that all would be well.
He took me with him. I don’t know how we went,
but we arrived and I saw many others who’d reached my
state of awareness. We were by the sea in a lovely
place, but I wasn’t happy, I wanted to go back to my
men, but your father said
“No…not until you have learnt to use your mind,
and send out rays of healing and life, you will not be
any good.’
So I went to school again. The Captain was
there, too; he had done quite a bit so he could help
me. It was confusing but very interesting.
We were told to look upon our minds as tanks of
living fluid which we could vaporize, and throw upon
the ether in any direction that we wished and
according to the type of help required; The power
varied in each of us. Doctors had more healing power
and were able to direct it more accurately. Artists
were able to surround the sufferer with beauty that
was more easily absorbed; musicians produced the sound
vibrations, and so on, but in the main our powers were
not so varied as our capacity to direct them.
I am still at work on this, but I have begun to
work with the men and your father is C.O. It’s “A
1” to have someone like him. I can’t tell you what he
has done for me, and how much I love and admire him.
Just let me tell you my name is Jack, and I love the
work over here.”

[More cases of rescue work on the other side in the
following articles Richard R]




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