December 2019


"Spirit Leads" By Connie Allison

This is a story of a trip my mother and I took from Arizona to Florida and how we followed the directions from Spirit. My mother had been living in Tucson a few years when she got the call that the mobile home, she owned in Florida would be sold for back taxes. She was told if she could get to St. Augustine, Florida by April first, she might be able to stop the sale. The call came as a surprise since my mother had a real estate woman in St. Augustine collecting the rent and sending it to her. She was to pay the taxes and watch over the property, at least that had been the arrangement before my mother left the state.


I offered to drive her to Florida and see what could be done about her property. We packed the car and started out. I drove from sun up to sun down each day, getting as many miles behind us as possible. All the time I keep feeling that there was something wrong with the front left tire. When I stopped for gas, I looked at it and could see nothing out of the ordinary. I visualized a white protective light around the car and that front tire in particular.


It did not take me long to realize that my mother could not read the highway signs. She had undergone recent cataract surgery, but still did not have perfect vision. At the beginning of the trip, she told me she would direct me with the road map and road signs. Now she said she could not see well enough to help me. It was too late to turn back and I tried not to panic. We would be going through some large towns and heavy traffic on the route, and now I realized I was on my own!


I started praying for help. When the gas tank needed to be filled, I sent out a mental S.O.S .and then I would hear a voice in my right ear saying, “turn off next exit”, and there would be a gas station. It was the same for a motel at night. We were led mile after mile down the highway by Spirit’s guidance and inspiration.


We continued into St. Augustine and went to the home of a friend of my mother’s named Joyce. The next day we appeared in court. When the judge found out we didn’t have a lawyer, he told the bailiff to go out in the hall and grab the first lawyer who walked by. It seems that my mother’s former employer was accusing her of defrauding him of some funds from the company. She had enough presence of mind to keep records of that money and could prove that he had put the money in question into one of his pet projects. This was a Friday afternoon and we were to be back in the judges’ chambers the following Monday for a final verdict.


Saturday morning my mother’s friend Joyce said to us, “Let’s go over to the real estate agent’s office, the one who rented your mobile, and see what she has to say for herself and the tax money.” Now, this is where the story gets interesting. Joyce said to me “You go in the office first and pretend you are looking to buy a house. Look at those big expensive ones so that she will get really interested and not leave the office. That will keep Anna, the real estate lady, there until we arrive.”


As I sat in the office, I started to pray: “Loving Spirit you know I don’t have the money to get back to Tucson. I have to get some money from this woman so we can get home.” My mother and Joyce came through the door, and from that moment on I do not remember anything that happened. Once I came out of my fog, I found myself bent over the agent’s account books saying in a very heavy southern drawl, “Now, Anna honey, you know we didn’t buy a TV antenna. Let’s just take that off the books, shall we?”


The next thing I remember we were walking out of the real estate office and I had a check in my hand for a thousand dollars. Joyce said, “Quick, let’s go to the bank before she can put a stop payment on the check!” We did just that. Joyce and my mother both complimented me on the smooth way I had handled the affair. My mother was confused and said she could not understand how my voice had changed, and that I spoken phrases that I don’t usually use like calling the real estate lady “sweetie.” Joyce just complimented me on my efficiency in getting the money. For my part, I don’t remember a thing, but I was smart enough not to admit it. We all went home that evening happy with the adventure of the day.


The next morning one of Joyce’s sons volunteered to mount new tires on the car if I would buy them. The tires I had on the car then were almost bare of tread. I gave him the money and he came home with four new tires. While he was working on the car, he called to me to come out in the yard and take a look at the old front tire. The young man said, “It is a wonder you weren’t killed.” The front left tire had been held on with just two lug nuts with the others completely stripped and just put there for effect. I had had some work done on the brakes in Tucson before we left for the trip. Apparently, the mechanic had not put the tires back on securely. My feelings about that tire had been right all along! There was no doubt that we were being protected the entire trip.


The hearing in the judge’s chambers was uneventful; as we had already guessed, my mother lost her house. The real estate broker lost his case against my mother since she had produced documentation that he had misappropriated the missing funds himself. 


About Connie: Connie has a BA from Prescott College in Prescott, Arizona and a MA in Rehabilitation Counseling from the University of Arizona in Tucson. Twenty years as a LVN working in military hospitals and clinics through out the western U.S, Ordained a Spiritualist minister in 2009, Tamara Spiritual Center, Tucson Arizona. Retired now  living in central Arizona with my daughter, a miniature dachshund, and a opinionated Siamese cat. I fill my time writing and making pottery on the potter's wheel, at the local college.  


This article was taken from my book “The Shadow Child” pen name Shawna A. Grey.  Find my book at: https://www.amazon.com/Shadow-Child-Shawna-Grey-M/dp/1504354524



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