Spirit of Gettysburg: Soulmates Across Time

Chapter 15

"Ouch!" She pushed into the wind, the biting air energizing her onward towards a hole-in-the-wall Mom and Pop grocery store about a mile down the road. She'd passed it on her way to Cavalry Manor and had made a mental note to explore it. What was its name? Sunshine Gateway Mart! What a cute name! She needed sunshine today.

She giggled. She adored Mom and Pop grocery stores. As a child and young adult in Forest Glen, Maryland, she lived near the Forest Glen Railroad Station and CSX train tracks in a four room, second floor, hundred year old apartment. The radiators hissed and the windows never properly opened or shut. She'd returned there to nurse her mother until her death.

The apartment, freezing in winter and baking in summer, was perched above an Eastern European grocery store, next door to The Beautiful Blue Danube Restaurant. Both buildings were owned by Hungarian Holocaust survivors and smelled of Hungarian spices, tart, tangy pickles, buttery, homemade noodles, sautéed red cabbage, chicken paprika, beef goulash, freshly baked apple strudel, chocolate torte and rye bread.

The heavenly aromas broke the diet of most strong-willed people, except her mother. Her alcoholic, anorexic mother never yielded to such temptations, her indulgences being elsewhere. She, on the other hand, frequently succumbed to temptation. Her mouth watered remembering the exotic smells and tastes of the food.

The restaurant, a hidden pearl of serenity, nurtured her. It was her haven away from her chaotic home life and erratic mother. Anything a homesick immigrant craved was there, including a cavernous backroom where aging, disgruntled Eastern Europeans, Germans and Russians, once bitter enemies, could re-fight World War II and cold war politics while drinking expresso, plum brandy, peppermint schnapps and Russian vodka.

She developed her psychic ability there, learning that God had blessed her with gifts of the Holy Spirit which she used to guide people back to God.

Seeing their past, present and future, accessing information beyond the five senses, reading their Akashic records, the spiritual record of their past lives and karma, was like breathing to her. It was easy, normal and natural. Her gifts nourished her soul. Comfortable in the spiritual world, earth was difficult for her. She endured earth and its people. Earth perplexed her. It was hard work. It remained hard work.

Her accuracy amazed customers. Even at thirteen she knew spiritual truths and told their fortunes while they gobbled hearty meals and sweet, buttery cakes. They listened with lavish tears rolling down their faces to both her and to mournful songs played by fiddlers with numbers tattooed on their arms, survivors of Hitler's extermination camp at Auschwitz.