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A tale of abuse and what it meant for a baby lightworker
The story I am going to share with you this month may be very hard to read. I want to warn you about it because it is the story about a brand new baby and her journey out of a horrific life. I have changed some of the details of the story to keep the identity of the people I mention confidential. The reason that I am sharing this story with you, at this time, will be explained at the end of the essay.
This is a journey story that I was in a unique position to witness and it includes my conclusions as to why I was exposed to it and the way and reasons it came into my awareness at the time.
If you are tender of heart, i would suggest you skip reading it... It is very harsh.
This baby came into my awareness in the early 1980s. I was pregnant at the time and my husband and I went to an expensive baby clothes and equipment store at a local mall. We didn’t have much money as we were both receiving social security income at the time due to being unemployed, so our plan was to buy a very pretty first outfit for our baby and get the rest from other less expensive places.
As I walked around the store, I heard a very faint whimpering. It sounded like a kitten almost. I followed the sounds and found a brand new baby, possibly just days or weeks old, on a narrow display shelf. I looked around for it’s mother but didn’t see anyone else in the store besides my husband. I called him over.
I put my hand on the baby’s belly and chest so she wouldn’t roll over and fall off the shelf. But she was too little to move. I noticed scars and sores all over her hands, neck, legs and face. Round sores and scars. And she looked at me terrified. She was doing her best not to cry. I had never seen that before, a new born baby stifling her cries.
I was confused, shocked, and I did not know what to do.
Were the scars from chickenpox, or cigarette burns? Where was the mother? What was happening here?
The baby was also radiating the most brilliant, clear, clean light I had ever seen. It felt to me that this was a light-being in her very first incarnation.
I began to feel highly stressed. Every cell in my body was telling me to grab that baby and run out of there. But of course, this was not something I could legally do.
My husband went to find an associate and came back about five minutes later with two mall security men.
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When they arrived, a girl, about twelve or fourteen, ran over to me and said, “that’s my baby! I wanted you to take her, not them. Give me my baby.”
I noticed that this child too had scars, not just round ones. And her demeanor and body language was very basic. Did she have brain damage? I also noticed that her inner light was also very, very bright. Another lightbeing, so bright, but damaged and shrouded.
I was totally speechless. Stunned. Paralyzed into place by what I was experiencing, and unable to understand any of it.
The security detail allowed the girl to pick up her baby and then took her and the baby away somewhere.
After a while watching all this happen, my husband took me by the hand and led me to the register with the little outfit I had chosen for my baby. I put the outfit down and walked away.
Sometime later, probably a year or two had passed, the baby in the store completely out of my mind and forgotten, I was visiting with my mother and she told me of a legal case that had been all over the news about a large extended family a few blocks from her house, who had been arrested and all the children taken from them.
She told me how most of the children were themselves parents and the abuse was sexual in nature, including torture, from birth. She told me that most of the investigation and arrests were kept confidential to protect the children that were rescued from the family. She knew about it because one of her best friends worked as a social worker in the city, and he had visited and shared what he knew with her because he wasn’t able to talk to anyone else. My mother was a healer so it was not unusual for people to come to her to unburden their traumas.
It appeared that she had known about the story for a while. She also told me that the children from the family were being put up for adoption. But that they were so damaged, they were having problems finding permanent homes for them. Some of the older children, teens, as well as some in their early twenties, had committed suicide.
When she told me the story, I remembered the baby at the baby store and wondered if she, and the child-mother, were from that family. As soon as I asked the question to myself, I knew the answer was that, yes, they were the same family.
At that moment, when I asked myself that question, my mother told me about another side to the story that she, herself, was not allowed to share with anyone else she knew. Something that was bothering her tremendously. And she wanted my help.
You see, my mother knew that in certain cases, I had the ability to facilitate deep healing.
And that was the reason she had decided to share everything with me.
She went on to tell me that for some bizarre reason, her social worker friend had told her about one of the youngest children they had rescued.
He had told her that this child was now a toddler. The child had been in foster care since she was a few months old, and they had placed her for adoption. A family had been chosen for her, an amazing couple who had already adopted a little boy, and were looking for a sibling for him.
They had placed the child with the family, to test things out, before the adoption was final. They had tried to adopt her out before, but the level of trauma in the child was too severe and the would-be parents had returned her unable to cope with the difficulties.
My mother then told me that unbeknownst to her friend, she knew the couple he was talking about with the toddler. They were her friends too.
She went on to tell me that she had figured out that the couple who she knew had that toddler with them and that they did not know what had happened to her. The entire case had been kept sealed and the new parents had not been told who the children were.
But my mother knew. She had asked her social worker friend a few questions to confirm the identity of the parents to herself. Of course, the questions did not indicate that my mother knew who they were, so all was well. The consequences of someone outside the system having identified one of the children were that the children would be removed from that environment and placed in one where they were unknown. At least that was what my mother had understood from her friend, the social worker.
She told me that the toddler needed help. And that she had visited with them many times and had done ceremony to help them, but that something was still amiss and the couple were struggling. They were fully committed to keeping their daughter, but they were scared that she would not survive whatever she had gone through. The little girl would go into absolute terror any time her new parents tried to touch her, hug her or come near her. Diaper changes were a horrific event, and she would not cry, but simply tremble and whimper, terrified.
The new parents had called my mother in, as they knew her and knew she was a healer. My mother had done her very best, and the girl did come near her when she visited, and she was slowly learning that touch did not mean pain. But my mother felt that they had come to a place they could not cross. That she could not do more.
She asked me to please visit with her to see if there was anything I could do to help this tiny girl. I agreed to go with her.
Of course, my mother had never told the parents what she knew about the toddler. And she had never told her social worker friend that she knew the family they had placed one of the children at. She asked me to be aware of this fact when we were visiting with the family. Not to share anything about the toddler’s history or ever share with her social worker friend that we knew about the family.
I agreed to this as well. And it is the reason why I have changed some of the details about this story.
It was a few days before we went to see the family.
As soon as we got to the house, I knew who they were. I had met them before and knew this couple were amazing parents. They were what we might now call, “granolas”. They were awake, healthy, active in their community, and their professions were in body health and spiritual growth.
Their son was outgoing, well adjusted and friendly. But it took a while before they were able to talk the little girl into coming out to see who was in the house.
The moment I looked into that little face, I recognized that new born baby at the mall, from all those years back. I gasped.
She looked at me, and I looked at her. I felt into her energy and connected to her soul. She told me from that level of expanded awareness that she had volunteered to bring light into Earth, she had heard the call and she had answered it. She had chosen one of the darkest places on Earth as she felt her light would be the most impactful there.
Having experienced this darkest of the dark now she wanted to leave. She had not known what darkness was, but now that she did, she felt she was clearly not strong enough to withstand it. She wanted out. She felt completely compromised and ineffective.
I expressed to her that she had already helped. That she, and her mother, had brought attention to that place, and that she was now out of it. But I felt, and she understood, that it ultimately was a stupid move. That her now damaged energy was no longer bringing light to the Earth but was instead feeding martyrdom and victimhood.
I could feel that her link to her physical body was damaged, that her body was extremely traumatized and she, the soul, was not able to comprehend what had happened or help in any way.
From the outside watching, my mother told me that all she had seen was that I had stared at the toddler nonstop, and that the toddler had stared at me nonstop. And that the toddler had moved toward me a little bit, and touched my knee. And that I had pushed her hand away, and told her, “don’t touch me,” in a very firm and harsh way.
Then the toddler had nodded and moved away.
The parents were “gobsmacked”, a British word to say “speechless”.
I stood up and told my mother I wanted to go home. Needless to say, not what she had expected or hoped for.
I don’t remember any of that though. I remember the conversation and the scanning I had done at an experiential telepathy way, but not what had happened at a physical level.
My mother had told this couple that I had certain healing skills and that I was “special”. In other words, I wasn’t socially “correct” when expressing my feelings or thoughts. They had agreed to my visit and seemed to understand my abruptness was just my quirkiness. I suppose this may be one of the reasons they were such good parents for this baby, and a reflection of their patience and non-reactive nature.
The next day despite the apparent nothing positive about my visit, my mother wanted me to go back, and that the couple wanted me to come again. I refused.
My mother worked on me for a while, and eventually I agreed to visit with the family as long as they kept that kid away from me and not try to force her on me.
Now, at this point you may be wondering why I didn’t fall all over the kid and touch her hand back, or allowed her near me, as that is what was desired, that she would learn healthy contact and hugs and kisses.
I can’t really answer that question since I didn't care to look at the time, but I theorize that it had to do with establishing boundaries and letting the kid know that I did not agree with her victim or martyr energy and found it repulsive and would not allow it in my field. It was clearly a different energy to what everyone else around her had projected onto her.
My mother and I went to the house for a few more visits after that, I agreed to hang out with the family. It was enough that I was in the house, I could feel the little girl in my field, and she could feel me in hers.
The parents reported some improvement and a light at the end of the tunnel. After a few months, I never returned to visit that family.
At the time, I wondered why I had been witness to this little girl from her first few days or weeks after birth, to her settling into a wonderful new family with two amazingly loving and gentle parents and a wonderful big brother.
And if you’ve made it here, this far into this story, then it is something you need to be aware of too.
You see, a lot is said about why bad things like this happen to children. Some people talk about Karma, others talk about victims, some about how people put themselves there to become compassionate and good people, some about martyrs, others talk about the devil, demons and such.
The reason the human collective orchestrated the full knowledge of the history of this child was because she was a light-worker and she had put herself into a situation she had no business being in. There WERE NO OTHER REASONS for her to have suffered like this apart from the fact that she had volunteered to come into a dark place and bring light there. And that when she changed her mind about being there, she and her mother had orchestrated themselves to move out of that environment. After that, it was up to her to move the trauma out of herself. Something that is hard when everyone around her was projecting the energy of victim onto her.
I figured out that I had been witness to her story, her journey, from the start because I needed to understand the nature of the circumstances, and the physical body trauma it caused, and that light-workers have put themselves in voluntarily, but of pure ignorance of what darkness truly is.
I had to understand because my job was to dust these light-workers off, feed them some good food, give them some good water, give them the tools to get street smart and step out of any beliefs or teachings that told them their suffering had continuing value. No one can take the trauma out of the lightworker, only they can do that.
In the years that followed, I have met thousands of lightworkers who didn’t make it out of the darkness. Those who fell hard and truly became “victims”, feeding the dark paradigm instead. Those who decided to become comfortably numb with alcohol, drugs, and screens. Those who give in to drama, guilt, fear and frustration.
But guess what, you are reading this because you are not a giver-upper. You are one of those who nod and understand the path and road you need to take.
I have also met light-workers who figured out to be born in positive, love filled, wonderful circumstances, and those light-workers are full on effective, able, capable and find it easy to be on the leading edge of creating high-frequency experiences on Earth. Their trauma levels are minimal, if there at all.
For those lightworkers who have had wonderful lives and are reading this, the ones who decided on amplifying the areas of light, I feel it is important for them to understand the path of the ones who thought the most effective or impactful place was the darkest areas isn’t true. We all need to understand it so we can work together and know these things now without feeding martyr or victim, or even savior energies into the mix, inviting further incarnations into the mud.
I don’t know what happened to that little girl. I don’t think that who she grew up to be was relevant to learning the path so many lightworkers have taken to be here during this time. I don’t know if she let her traumas dictate her life, or not. I don’t know if she dissolved them, or learned to work around them. Or used them in a way that gave value to them (turned to the dark), or allowed them to disable her.
I hope she either dissolved them or learned to work around them.
What I do know is that for us who made it, who are still here and awake, able and working on getting ourselves back into shape, having a good understanding of the nature of darkness, and the reason why these types of things have happened to lightworkers on Earth, is important.
Of course, not everyone who went through these types of experiences is a light-worker, or are here because they answered the call for assistance in embodying the high-frequency paradigm. Some are indeed here because they wanted to have a painful experience, or felt they deserved it, or are deeply stuck in the victim/aggressor cycle. There is a big difference between someone who stepped into one of these cycles or situations out of ignorance about what darkness is, and those who have been playing with the cycles and darkness out of informed choice.
My interest is in those who stepped into darkness out of ignorance, and those who chose to be born into the light, because those are the ones who are actively working to step out of the light/dark paradigm. I have no interest in those who value darkness, give it nice meanings and propagate the energy of suffering, victimhood and helplessness.
To me, that little girl definitely wanted and actively stepped out of it as soon as she figured out what she had gotten herself into. And yes, I understand that the trauma persisted for years, and her journey out of it was not an easy one. I don’t even know if she made it out of the trauma completely. But she did step out of the mud for sure.
We are much larger than our lives and circumstances. If that newborn baby girl and her child-mother were able to orchestrate a way out of the mud, then all of us can too.
Trauma can feel like a deep, stuck, solid stress type of energy in our bodies, minds, emotional body or energy body. If you have one or more traumas, use this tool on them: “Stress Relief Exercise”.