I Saw The Light

I SAW THE LIGHT

By Winifred Donohue

Published by Winifred Donohue at Smashwords

© Winifred Donohue. 2013

Cover Artwork Valerie Barnett digitised by David Young. Creative Commons attribution licences. Free to use but please acknowledge source and license any derivatives with same license conditions.

eISBN 978-0-9870726-1-0

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Dedication

This book is dedicated to some very special friends in the Church who have help to make my journey possible.

My deepest gratitude goes to my Guide and Helpers in Spirit

Table of Contents

Book 1

Book 2

Introduction

This book is about my journey through life. When we come into this world we are not aware of the journey we must take. As youngsters we do not give much thought to anything we do in life, as we do not realise that we are being prepared for our Spiritual turning point in life when the time comes.

I grew up seeing many sides to life and going through many trials and tribulations. I had a religious upbringing, which I am very grateful for today, because it lay the foundation for what I have become.

I never understood that spirit was always a part of my life until I came to work with it. This book will discuss how I came to understand the spirit world, God, Spiritualism and the teachings of Jesus

Book 1

Everyone has a story to tell. I hope in telling my story that it will help to bring hope and joy into other peoples’ lives.

I have learnt who I am. I am Winifred a child of God. I do not need to seek who I was in other life times, because even then I was a child of God: my spirit has always been the same; I just wear different overcoats each time I come back to Earth. These overcoats are the different physical bodies I have inhabited on Earth.

This particular (and very interesting) life of mine began during an air raid on Manchester, England in 1940. I arrived into this world under the dining room table, of my mother’s lounge room, whilst bombs were falling upon the city.

I grew up in a very poor part of Manchester known as: ‘The Slums.’ Although the people there were very poor, they were some of the happiest people I have known throughout my life. As neighbours they cared about each other; and although their homes had very little in them, they were kept spotlessly clean.

I remember how even newspapers had great value, as they could be put to so many uses. Their primary use after being read was to be used as toilet paper. I remember as a child having to sit and cut those papers into squares, and then tie all of the pieces together with string that were then hung in the toilet. Thank goodness the newspapers were not like they are today, where the print simply rubs off! We also used newspapers as tablecloths. Our wooden tables were scrubbed clean then covered with newspaper.

Another multipurpose product was the jam jar; these were often used as cups for that ‘Ever-ready cuppa.’ -We ‘Brits’ do like our cuppa! They also became storage jars, or vases should one ever get flowers; although we saw very few flowers due to their cost. Both my mother and father had very good jobs, which meant we were never without money, unlike most of our neighbours.

My neighbourhood had a good bartering system in operation. For example, cleaning agents could be obtained by trading rags, and my mother would often trade food for ration coupons. It was from this period in my life that I learnt possessions have very little to do with happiness and peace of mind.

Ever since I was little, I was encouraged to go to both church and Sunday school. The church I attended was the ‘Albert Memorial Anglican Church’ at Miles Platting, a suburb of Manchester. This brought me into contact with different social classes of people, who had different values from those of my own upbringing. So I was fortunate to have experienced the best, of these different worlds. At the age of fourteen I wanted to become a missionary in China and work for God. Unfortunately, the Chinese government threw all the missionaries out of their country, which meant I had to rethink my life and future: so I allowed my thoughts to turn to boys! Missionary work was to come later in my life.

A time that stands out strongly in my mind was when I was sixteen, where with my family, I moved to a newly developed town. This town had no church; so I chose to travel an hour both ways by bus, to my old church in Manchester. One evening the Reverend Harold Tate (of the Anglican Church), visited my parents looking for help to start a new church. He also asked me if I would like to help him. Later, I came to realise that God had lead him to our home.

Rev. Tate went on to acquire a large hut from which our new church began. I helped with both the Sunday school and the Girls’ Brigade. I had a very strong bond with Rev. Tate; and it was as if I had always known him. This bond was something, which I also came to understand later in life.

I had equally as many happy moments throughout my childhood, as unhappy ones. On the surface, my family looked to be the perfect family, but behind closed doors this wasn’t always the case. I was often shipped off to my aunt’s home until the storm blew over. Later, I was to learn that a lot of my parents’ problems were centred on me. At the age of sixteen my parents were going through what I called their ‘Silent War.’ At the time I had become a vocal yo-yo. My mother would tell me to Tell your father… and my father would say Tell your mother…

This silent war pattern continued throughout my whole childhood and never once did my siblings or me; know what they were fighting about. Our parents always waited until we were in our beds, to talk to each other. Their arguments were never conducted in front of us, but did contribute to the yo-yo effect.

During one of these silent wars my mother produced a letter she had written to my father's brother, and asked me to post it within earshot of my father. She then stopped me from posting it, and told me to hide the letter in my bedroom.

I forgot about the letter until some months later, when I came across it, whilst going through my dressing table. Having decided to open the envelope and read the contents, I was surprised that the content of the letter was about me. It disclosed that my father had accused my mother of having an affair with my uncle, and that I was really my uncle's child. Learning this fact has never had a negative affect on me, because the only father I have known was the man I loved and called dad.

At that age I was still innocent and did not know how babies were made, as sex was never openly discussed. The only sex talk I had was when I was seventeen and my mother told me to Stay away from boys! and nothing more. Because I was naïve, I had never thought of the importance of knowing a biological father; and still today, I put no importance on knowing it. I never discussed the letter with my mother and didn't know if she knew I had read it. I suspect my mother would have been embarrassed to know I had actually read the letter. That incident alone