Laura Laforce

Journey Into Spirituality


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we were going for dessert before we left. They were doing the final head count of the evening before locking the unit door. They assumed you took off. I just let them know that you’re with me. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.”

      One afternoon I had a premonition of a female patient dying. I mentioned this to the staff right away. Twenty four hours later this lady died. I was returning from lunch when I spotted a gurney with a body in a body bag. I could see it being pushed down the hallway. A couple of staff members sat with me and we grieved the female patient’s death together.

      I was given an IQ test, achieving just two points below genius! The doctor said it was probable that, had my childhood been more stable, my test would have resulted in a much higher score.

      The week before my eighteenth birthday, Nancy a nurse at the institution, grasped the dynamics of my situation when I received a call from my mother. Nancy realized that the call upset me and, as I retreated to my room in tears, she followed me inside.

      “Laura, I’m really sorry about what happened to you. We’ve got the wrong person in here. What I heard on the phone tonight was sick, controlling, abusive, and completely uncalled for.”

      “I’m okay, it doesn’t matter.”

      “We’ve been watching you for awhile. Every time you receive a phone call from her, your whole demeanor changes. You appear distressed and uneasy. Tonight I listened in on your phone call. I needed to know what was happening. This is going to be documented and a meeting will be held tomorrow. I’m putting in an immediate request for an apartment or accommodations of your choice.”

      A couple of choices were presented to me the following day. The apartment they were offering wasn’t the best choice. This apartment would be shared with a roommate. I would have to enroll in a program teaching young people how to survive on their own. I already knew how to cook, clean, shop, and work.

      My biggest concern was my education. I was going to be an adult in a couple of days and I didn’t even have a grade eight education.

      Another choice was Inga, an older lady offering room and board. I felt her place would be in my best interests. It would only be she and I living in the household. I registered at a local high school as a mature student. It bothered me that I was older than the other students. I took correspondence courses and worked as a babysitter while attending high school.

      Inga was spiritual herself. One evening she insisted that I attend a supper with a group of people she knew. Many of these people casually spoke with me. I knew they were observing me, but I didn’t know why.

      The next day when speaking to Inga, I could hardly believe what she was saying.

      “Laura, you’re special. Those people we had supper with last night are mystics. I asked them what they sensed about you. They say you have superior gifts and abilities. You need time to heal and release the negativity first, which has been inflicted your whole life. One day you will be somebody many will look up to and respect. You’re going to help many people.”

      I stayed with Inga for a year. The following year, I rented an apartment with a friend. One night, I was out on the balcony enjoying the evening sky. I became aware of a looming tornado. I had never seen a tornado before. I went inside and told my roommate.

      “Taylor, there’s going to be a tornado!” I exclaimed.

      “We don’t have tornado’s here. What makes you say that?”

      “The sky is different and I sense it.”

      “I hope you’re wrong,” Taylor said.

      “Me too.”

      Sixteen hours later a devastating tornado hit the Edmonton area, killing several people.

      After being on my own for awhile, I started talking with mother. I forgave her and decided to work on our relationship. I desired the mother-daughter relationship I thought other girls had. Eventually she talked me into moving back home. We were going to catch up on missed time. I ended up regretting this decision.

      Grade twelve was an interesting year for me. During the year, English became my favorite subject. One day, after school, I went to talk to my favorite English teacher about the details of an assignment.

      “Laura,” she said. “I can see you writing a book one day.”

      “I don’t think so Mrs. Birch. Don’t get me wrong. I like English, but I read and hand in assignments for marks. To write a book would be a huge undertaking, which I’m not prepared to do.”

      In grade twelve, I auditioned with my friends to become an extra in a documentary. We all made the audition. Outfits from the 1940’s were issued to us on the first morning of the filming. We only had fifteen minutes to get dressed, before we were on. The front of the blouse I was to wear wouldn’t stay buttoned shut. Within seconds of complaining, the seamstress quickly sewed it shut while I was wearing it. The filming was interesting and exciting. I learned how movies were made. The following day was to be the final day of the filming.

      It was hard to fall asleep that night with all the excitement. While lying awake, I saw a vision of an empty stretcher beside me. I wondered why?

      Over the past couple days my hips had become extremely tender. They snapped and crackled weirdly every time I moved. I assumed these were some sort of growing pains.

      A friend’s mother threw us a party after the filming was over. We spent the evening enjoying ourselves. I was sitting on the floor, when one of my friends asked me to dance. I sprang up to join him and my hip locked. I couldn’t move from the waist down on one side. The pain was tremendous. My body went into shock.

      An ambulance was called. I was taken to the hospital. A deformed muscle had dislocated ceasing the front of my hip joint, straining and tearing the other muscles and ligaments in my pelvis.

      The condition worsened as time went on. The week before graduating, both hips froze. I was bedridden and missed my graduation.

      Chapter 2

      HEAVENLY BREAD

      Nina invited me over to meet her father Sam, who was a psychic himself, visiting from Israel. He spoke limited English. We had heard about each other, but had never met. Nina was translating our conversation when the doorbell rang.

      “Oh, I lost track of time. I promised to help Ruth with something. Hope you two will be okay without me for ten minutes,” said Nina.

      We both continued to visit despite the language barrier. Through this experience, we discovered the energy of language. Vibrations of communication are universal. I was able to understand Sam through energy, as he spoke Arabic, with the odd English words or short sentences thrown in. I could only respond in English. Sam was experiencing the same in reverse.

      “Where in my house am I standing?” Sam demanded.

      “I don’t know. I can’t do that.” I hesitated unsure of my ability to see across the world. In the past I had unintentionally participated in remote viewing, but I’d never on command.

      “Yes you can. Spirit tells me so.” Sam insisted.

      “You are in your yard at the side of your house. Your house is a sandstone color. There are two palm trees in the yard. I find the area extremely peaceful.”

      Sam’s face lit up with great joy. “See, you did it.”

      “That’s where I was. Thirty meters from my door is the cemetery.”

      We then decided to read each other. We were exchanging palm readings, unaware Ruth had been observing us from a distance.

      “Excuse me, may I join in?” Ruth interrupted.

      “Sure,” we said in union.

      “Can you look at my palm?” Ruth requested in desperation.

      “Yes,” said Sam.

      “I’m worried about my