I spent the year researching, digging, and learning. During the mid 70's there was NOT the resources that are available now to a young teen-age girl, but reading the books I did, I was able to pull from them the truth I felt real to my Spirit. Now you must realize... most of the books available during this time were books written by Christians.
Toward the end of the year, I was approached by a young man that said he knew of my Quest, and had information for me... I was invited to a ritual. The Ritual I went to, although I am sure it filled the need for these people at this time of their life, I knew was not what I had been studying... I knew the Path they were on was not mine.
My grade for this paper was an A+, and the instructor added a note that she had not seen this level of research on many college papers. It gave me the boost I needed for the next 20 years. The Goddess knew I needed the time I had with her at that time in my life, but she also knew I was not ready to devote my life to this Path yet, so she set my feet on the Path of seeker.
For a number of years I was sort of drifting, then I got serious in my search. I knew there was a reason for being who and what I was/am/will be... WHAT WAS IT? During this time I became an Ordained Minister. I read the Bible. I went "visiting" church to church looking for my home. Many places felt very nice, and I felt comfortable, but it didn't feel like home.
One weekend (I was 33), my daughter and I went on a trip to Prague (we were stationed in Germany at the time). We had a fabulous time, but during this weekend, my daughter asked me many questions I just didn't have answers for. It caused my soul to become restless more than it had been since I was 13.
When we got home from the trip (it was 2:30am) I slept for a few hours, got up, read the paper... there was a very intriguing classified ad for people interested in ecological ideals. Their group name was "Friends of Gaia". I cut out the ad and then went for a long walk. I could feel something pushing me toward something... but "What Was It?".
As I got home, my husband was just finishing bar-b-queing some hamburgers. I gave the ad (tucked safely away in a basket) a glance, and sat down to eat (the kids had already ate and went back out to play). Just as we were beginning there was a knock on the door... The man at the door asked if Michael was our son. Yes, we replied (my Oh My Goodness sensors flicking like crazy). He said, you need to come with me, he has been hit by a car....
Peter (he's my husband) and I raced down three flights of stairs, I can't explain the utter terror I felt in those few seconds... ~was it truly less than a minute?????~
As we rounded the corner of our building, I saw the growing crowd... where was my son? Where was my baby?
The crowd parted, and I saw my visiably shaken son, being lowered to the ground (he had been sitting up). Within moments, the ambulance was there. They loaded my little boy in the back, and once they had stablized him, they allowed me in the ambulance with him. Things happened so very fast from that point on. My husband was shouting to me, that he was going to get the car and would follow the ambulance to the hospital. The EMT's were doing their thing... suddenly I had a strange (Quite an Ominous) feeling, and I went to the back door of the ambulance, just as the Base Chaplin was getting ready to enter.
I thanked the gentleman profusely for coming, but assured him ~quite~ profusely he was not needed. I re-assured him that IF the need did arise, we would let him know. I somehow felt that to allow him in the vehichle, I would give the powers that are... away.
I went back to my son once the Chaplin departed. Michael was laying on the gurney, he was now strapped down, IV's had been inserted, his neck had a brace on it... ( When Had this happened? My mind couldn't fully accept what my eyes saw) Michael looked at me, and a lone tear streaked down the side of his face mingling with the dirt smudges so common on little eight year old boys, and he asked me...
"Mommy... am I gonna... die?"
I can't now, nor do I think I will ever be able to put into words the feelings coursing through my entire being during that enteral moment.
"No baby" I replied to him, "you aren't going to die." I answered him in as normal a voice I could muster
~~I was more scared than I had ever been in my life, until that time or since~~
"Am I in trouble then?" he asked.
At that moment in time, he could have asked for the Sun, The Moon and all the Stars in our Universe, and I would have found a way to get them for him.
"No sweet baby, just no bike riding for a while... OK?" I answered him.
I had caught a glimpse of his bike (it hadn't registered in my mind until days later -- when we picked it up at the forensics lab of the police station) while waiting for permission to enter the ambulance... it was a twisted hunk of metal, barely recognizable as a bicycle... and most certainly never to be used as a bike for a child's play again.
We raced to the hospital at Ramstein A.B. in Germany, the trip seemed to take forever... the siren echoing through my brain.
As the ambulance pulled into the emergency area of the hospital, the trauma team was there to meet us. They had been notified that an eight year old male child had been struck by a car and was en-route.
They were a little put out about the fact that he seemed to be fine, they put us into an emergency room waiting area, and the wait began.
They came and took blood
They inserted a catherter Michael didn't like that, not at all! Nope, not at all!
A portable x-ray machine was brought in, many pictures were taken
They were ready to release him, and I kept insisting... there is "stuff" in his head. I could feel the bumps and Michael would flinch each time I tried to see what the bumps were.
Finally, when they decided to humor a "Distressed Mother", they found 8 shards of windshield glass in his scalp. The shards ranged in size from 1/2 inch to a little over an inch... I found out later the winshield of the car that hit my son was shattered. The police determined his head was the initial contact to the windshield. His body followed it.
We were released approximately six and a half hours after we had arrived. Michael had some scrapes, the punctures to his scalp (none of the glass appeared to have penetrated his skull) a lot of bruises, and boy was he sore.
That night after we got home, I desperately wanted to call the number from the ad, but it was getting late, we were exhausted, and I was afraid that I was following a trail that led nowhere. I had sought these answers for many years.
The next morning (at a fairly decent hour -- 9:00am) I called the contact number for "Friends of Gaia". I talked for a while with the woman who answered the phone... she skirted the issue for a while, suggesting some books to read -- Shirley McClain, and such... saying their group dealt with the metaphysical. I was desperate for the support I HAD TO HAVE,I finally asked her...
"Are you Witches?" (I didn't know about Wiccan at that time).
She replied that some of the members were, but all of them were Pagan.
WHOA! Yeow..... I KNEW Witches were what I was looking for, and I KNEW, just like the bible says... we all know that(!), ya know... Pagans are ~those~ people that worship the devil. I knew this to be a fact.
This woman continued talking to someone that had just freaked out over what she said, for almost another two hours... educating me about Myth and Reality. Finally, she gave me the number of a person that lived on the base I lived on (Sembach).
Later that day after much reflection, I called Cathy. We talked for awhile, she told me where she worked (the base bookstore), and invited me to drop by sometime.
I went the next day to the store she managed, I was a bit nervous, but by this time I desperately HAD to have someone tell me what I was, what I felt, why I looked at life the way I did... it was all very normal.
I met a woman who helped me more than anyone person ever has my entire life. She helped me to find "MY" truth and ~NOT~ need to have to defend it to anyone else in the World... I am Evelyn. I was given the name Quest. I am a good and loving person. AND I am Pagan.
There is so much more to add.... please come back soon... if I know you are, so will I (I am working really hard on that procrastination thing!)
© 1998 bce
quest351@aol.com
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