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Guiding Kathy A True Story
Guiding Kathy A True Story
Guiding Kathy A True Story
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Guiding Kathy A True Story

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Do guardian angels exist?

For as long as she can remember, Kathy has received guidance from the spiritual world. This guidance came in many different forms. From audible voices to visual dreams, she has been protected, warned and ultimately led to her one life's desire. And even after that, when she'd endured the most tragic of events, she felt comfort in knowing she was not alone.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateOct 27, 2017
ISBN9781386833086
Guiding Kathy A True Story

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    Book preview

    Guiding Kathy A True Story - Kathleen Werstein

    Dedication

    To God; my guardian angels; Jack and Barbara Wolosin; Robert Werstein, Andrea and Phil Podley.

    Acknowledgments

    I greatly thank:

    Aid Mc Naly; Clair Harris-Perkins and Patricia Bell, for their publishing tips;

    Rigoberto Guzman Perez, Rody Pollock, for their moral support,

    Trisha Frazer, for reading through and commenting on the rough draft

    Introduction

    During my life, I had many paranormal experiences, that had guided, protected and gave me comfort, which is one of the many reasons as to why I wrote this book; to share those experiences with everyone.

    I also wrote this book to be informative. There are people who do believe in and/or had paranormal experiences and could possibly even identify with some of the ones I had. And, of course, there are people who do not believe in the paranormal; who never had a paranormal experience, or are in denial that their experience(s) ever happened.

    In this book, you will read about how a part of our universe functions-that: how no one is ever alone (because the other side is aware of us, with what we think, say and do); we are made up of energy; we never die; animals have souls too and how powerful love is.

    Although I feel highly blessed with how a part of our universe interacts with me, I will tell you flat out, that I am not a saint! I have, and continue to make mistakes (like we all do and have done). I feel if I were such a perfect being, I would not have entered into this realm, in the flesh.

    While writing my manuscript, sometimes a song would come into my mind, relating to that particular event. After each such event, you will find numbers in parenthesis, that match up to the list of songs, that is found in this book’s Song Index. Some of the songs are an actual part of my story. The others, I found to be very befitting to my story.

    Everything that I had written about in this book, is true; to the best of my recollection.

    Before you begin reading, let’s start with an opening song, Somebody Bigger Than You and I ...

    ...It now gives me immense pleasure to introduce myself, and a part of our universe to you.

    I Am Not Alone

    The experiences I have had from spiritual sources, affected my life forever.

    I, Kathy, was born into a small family that consisted of my mother, Barbara (my dad called her Bobbie), a housewife; my father, Jack, a plumber, and my sister, Andrea (Andy, for short), who is five years older than I am.

    The first place that my family lived in, and when I was born, was in a small, one story house, in Los Angeles, California.

    When I was two years old, my family moved into a duplex apartment, across town from where the house was located at.

    I remember, on how back then my mother struggled every day with me to get me to take an afternoon nap. Of course, she would always prevail in the matter. It was during one of those nap times that I will never forget, because it was when a remarkable series of events in my life began to happen. On that particular day, before I slept, I was laying on my bed, on my back and staring at the ceiling. A few moments later, I noticed that the ceiling had opened up and I could see the blue sky, with some white, fluffy clouds in it. Shortly after, a man’s bare arm with his hand cupped, came down from that sky, halfway reaching down from the ceiling, to the center of my bed. The man’s arm and hand, just as slowly as his reach down towards me was, retracted and the ceiling closed up to look normal once again. Although I did not understand why any of this had happened, I didn’t feel scared. I felt at peace.

    #

    On the day of my third birthday, my mother had a party for me. Strangely, however, amongst all the people that attended it, the only children there were Andy and myself. I had made friends with a few children in the neighborhood and therefore I felt very disappointed to discover that none of them showed for my party. In my quest to find any one of them, I decided in my search to not go out through the front door of my family’s second story apartment, as I knew I’d be immediately spotted by one of the partying adults, then I’d be denied to exit. I therefore decided to conduct my search from the balcony. Once out there, I realized I was too short to be able to see over any of the balcony’s solid walls. So, I moved a chair that was already out there, up against one of the balcony’s walls, then climbed my way up onto the chair, then onto a balcony’s ledge. Once up there, my eyes moved quickly around, at the grassy ground below, in search for any one of my friends. None could be found. I then began to think I would have better luck in my search if I were on the ground., While I was figuring out how I could make that happen, from the balcony, an adult, female’s voice came into my head, asking, What are you looking for?

    I mentally responded, My friends.

    Your friends are not there; they’re all away.

    While I stood in silence, waiting to hear more from the voice, Andy had seen me standing outside, on the balcony’s ledge. She quickly rushed her way to me, and grabbed me off the balcony, then put me back inside our apartment, amongst the partygoers. Besides Andy and myself, no one else that I could see, including my mother, had noticed what just happened. One thing I immediately realized though, is that when I was standing on the ledge by myself, I was not alone.

    Although my paranormal type experiences continued, some were too minor to mention. I will continue to only state the remarkable ones.

    Another paranormal type experience I had happened was at age ten. Back then, my father would take us for a drive every Sunday, in his new, red and white, full-sized luxury car.

    One Sunday, my father took his newly prescribed medication for the pains he was experiencing in his stomach, just before we had left for a drive to Mexico. After about forty minute’s worth of my father driving us south on the freeway, he drastically increased his driving speed. A voice came into my head and said, Get on the floor! Protect yourself!

    I said to Andy (she was sitting in the back seat next to me), Get on the floor and protect yourself! We both did.

    Moments later, I could feel the impact of my father’s car, while it crashed into another’s, one lane over. My father’s car had major damage from the accident. We all got out of our cars, respectively. The driver (and the only one) in the other vehicle, a station wagon, was a middle-aged male. As my father and the other man pushed my father’s car away from the freeway lanes, off to the side, my father explained to the man of the medication he took a short while ago. The man was totally understanding of the situation.

    As the man’s car hadn’t sustained much damage to it and was still drivable, he insisted that he take all of us to the hospital in his vehicle, to make sure that we were alright. We were all okay, except my mother, who had pain in her neck; whiplash from the accident.

    My guide knew what was to come and had told me exactly what to do to safely survive the situation. I felt protected.

    My Poor Father

    As my father became more successful in his plumbing business, he moved us in to a four thousand square foot, upper middle-class home in Beverlywood, California.

    Two years after, my father’s stomach pains became frequent and severe.

    One (very famous) surgeon that came highly recommended to my father said to my father, Although I’ve never done this type of operation (to do a modification to my father’s stomach; with his diagnose as having ileitis) before and don’t know of any surgeon that has, I’m willing to try it. It’s either that you have this operation, or die. My father agreed to have the operation.

    My mother, sister and I all prayed for my father while he was being operated on.

    The surgery was a success. Being that my father didn’t have insurance coverage at that time, the doctor demanded my father to pay him one hundred thousand dollars for his services.

    I remember seeing the furniture and my father’s car being taken away from us before the house was. After, the doctor’s bill was still not fully paid for, so my father had to file for bankruptcy. No more designer dresses for my mother; no more fine dining on Restaurant Row. We mostly ate eggs for our meals.

    For the next year that followed, my father was physically healing, but not well enough to work as much as he did, prior to his having surgery.

    From the house, we moved from one apartment complex to another, due to rent increases, while my father was trying to financially reestablish himself.

    Wrong Message; Right Message

    When I was fifteen, my family was able to live in the same apartment complex long enough for me to attend one high school, without me having to leave it until I graduated from it.

    I wasn’t sure what would happen to me in the future, as I hadn’t made any real goals for myself. Well, none, except for my wanting to be married, soon. I wanted that one man to whom I could come home to, to call, Honey, or Sweetheart, or Babe to; the one who’d be my best friend, to share my thoughts and feelings with; that I’d feel safe and secure with and the one who’d love me, like I’d love him, unconditionally. My parents had a very loving, affectionate type of relationship, which was just the type of relationship I was looking for to have with my man, too. My soul then became in pursuit of my (hopefully, soon-to-be) husband.

    A few girls around my age, who attended my high school had also lived in the same apartment complex as I did. One of them, ‘Patty’, lived with her parents

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