Skillful Creamery

Rae, it's the ellipsis points. They'll get you for questionable content every time. Either delete them, or put spaces between each one (. . .).

Hmm, I definitely believe that our existence is not limited to this plane. Simply put, it's the only way I could possibly explain my acquaintance with our older sister, Jamali, since no one had told me about her when I first encountered her.

I know you've always felt connected to Jamali, tell me more about your experience/relationship.
The elipses were spaced out- so it must have been something else.

Well, here's what I know: she came to me in a vision. Now, you know me, I am not the "I had a vision" kind of girl. I don't have particularly meaningful dreams. If horror films wanted some really good material they could tap into my dreams. My dreams are not mystical.

Anyway, I had a vision of a young woman - about my age or slightly older, with long flowing brown hair. And you know that patchwork quilt skirt that we had for our baby dolls (specifically for 'Mara Noelle')? She was wearing that - adult version. [maybe a peasant type blouse, but that could be embellishment]. She was in a plain of grass - nothing but beautiful green grass and horizon. She walked into view, laid a piece of muslin cloth onto a little white box and walked away. The cloth had the Greatest Name on it. At the time I didn't think much of it. At some point in time I shared it with Maman, who immediately felt it was Jamali. I was about 16. She told me of our older sister, and how she was buried in a small white box that Maman had carved the Greatest Name into back in high school. [the plot number for her burial turned out to be '1844']. She was the first to have a Baha'i funeral in the Falklands.

So I suppose that's where my connection began. As my understanding of death and the next world was (and is) that we can dedicate works, thoughts, efforts, etc. to the progress of souls in the next world, I felt I could do that for her.

We had to write a paper in 11th grade that was to be peer edited, so Mrs.-oh-my-gosh-what's-her-name? had us choose code numbers or words for our papers. I chose Jamali. The person who edited my paper liked my paper and shared it with the class [it was about teaching the Pope a lesson about women's reproductive rights by turning him into a rabbit]. Afterward, she queried my use of this word - Jamali, so I got to explain to my English class my beliefs about death and our sister. That was really special for me, too.

Maman, at the time, told me she'd had encounters with Jamali as well. Maman?

by the way, in your entry you have a 'double period' - could that have been it?

Mara, you were due on Christmas Eve, 1975. It was a beautiful summer day, picture perfect. I was worried that I would not deliver that day, because the doctor said the day before that it didn't seem to be immenent. I started the day, dressing Nathan, visiting with my mother. By the time I started to help Margaret Leonard (we were all staying at their house) make dinner, I realized that my labor was starting, but it was quite mild. Daddy and I decided to take a walk to see if it was 'real' labor or not, plus in the early stages of labor, it is good to walk around. It eases things. On our walk around town, we stopped at the cemetary and said some prayers at Jamali's gravesite. I was a little concerned about how this was going to go. It was less than a year since I had miscarried and the pregnancy had had some difficulties. While we were praying, a sense of calm and tranquility and assurance came over me, and I knew (or felt) that it was Jamali letting me know that everything would be okay. And even when you stopped breathing and had no reflexes (a scary moment to any mother), I still had this feeling that everything would be okay -- not that you would be okay/healthy, but that things would be the way they would be and that that would be okay.

And Rachael's blog continues to be encounters with Jamali.

I too have felt a connection to Jamali (though it's more vague and difficult to word). I was in Africa when I knew that Jamali was watching over me. Looking back, there were several instances in which I know that I was being protected but do not associate them with Jamali. For example, why did i not get a phone call from kristen (and then go for a walk with her on the phone as i usually did) the night that the guard near my home was murdered? For, certainly, the house was near mine and I assuredly would have taken my casual and lost in kristen's words conversation right by the attempted robbery.

sigh.

I am very moved to hear my family speaking of our dear Jamali in such personal and tender experience. A piece of my heart lies in a little white box with the bronze and copper Greastest Name on top. It is placed facing Bahji on the northern slope of the inner bay of Port Stanley. She sees all the sunrises and all the sunsets in the southern hemisphere. cheers chays!

papa