Seeing Fairies

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by Marjorie T Johnson


  Chapter 16: Angels and Angel Music

  The seer Geoffrey Hodson, author of The Brotherhood of Angels and of Men, The Angelic Hosts, and The Coming of the Angels (Theosophical Publishing House, London), described these beings as “Nature spirits that have attained to self-conscious individual existence” and “Mind-born Emanations from the Absolute.” The Greeks and Romans called them “gods,” while in the ancient Sanskrit language they were “Devas” (pronounced “Day-vahs”), meaning “Shining One,” for their bodies are self-luminous. The various dictionaries define them as “Divine attendants,” “Messengers from God,” and “Ministering Spirits,” etc. Included in their ranks are Angels of Healing; of Music; of Beauty and Art; of Maternity and Birth; Guardian Angels; Ceremonial Angels; Nature Angels; and the Building Angels, who embody the Archetypal ideas.

  Mrs. Flower A. Newhouse, founder of the Christward Ministry at Questhaven Retreat, California, USA, said that the Christian Bible refers to the activity and reality of these radiant beings 295 times. She truly sees into the realm of angels, and her beautifully illustrated books, The Kingdom of the Shining One, Natives of Eternity, and Re-Discovering the Angels (L.N.Fowler and Co.Ltd., London), are authentic records of her experiences. The angels are as fully a part of her consciousness as are her family and friends, and she said “This faculty of extended vision, which permits me to see the Radiant Ones, becomes useful only when I share its perceptions with others.”

  Just as the lesser nature-spirits help the garden end woodland flowers to unfold, so do the angels help us to unfold what is known in the East as the “thousand-petalled lotus” (the Crown Chakra, or spiritual centre in every human being).

  When communicating with each other, the angels use a colour language, but when communicating with human beings it is usually by telepathic means. However, some seers of fairies and angels receive a strong impression of real vocal sounds, which come through in the seer’s own language. Swedenborg said that the speech of an angel is heard as sonorously as the speech of one man with another, yet it is not heard by others who stand near because it flows first into the man’s thought, and, by an internal way, into his organ of hearing, and thus actuates it from within.

  An angel told Geoffrey Hodson, “The First essential on your side is a belief in our existence,” so they want us all to open our hearts and minds and become receptive to their benign influence and eternal presence. Then the dense clouds of materialisation can be pierced and the necessary channels be formed, through which they can send greater outpourings of healing power to the hospitals, and fresh hope and guidance to our sick and war-scarred world, for it is true that the strife in the world is the outward manifestation of the inner conflict of the individual, and that the cause is within ourselves, since everything begins with the power of thought.

  Many years ago I was able to catch a glimpse of a great golden Healing Angel at a Divine Healing Service held by Brother Mundus of The World Healing Crusade, Blackpool, in a Nottingham Chapel. Presiding over the service, the angel seemed to be helping to distribute and focus the strong flow of healing power to the patients, and while those with rheumatoid arthritis were being attended to, glorious rays of rose-coloured light flashed down from the great Being’s aura, so that some of the patients could walk better, and their hands were straightened. Two colour-healers who were sent at an earlier service told me that they had seen streams of blue light pouring from the Angel to the patients who had cataracts, and that in several cases the eyes became perfectly clear.

  Once, at a service of Holy Communion, I was privileged to see the “Angel of the Presence” at the altar. This Angel has a face of supernal beauty, and represents the Christ.

  Late one night, in November 1977, when an exceptionally fierce gale was blowing and a warning had been given over the radio that there might be structural damage, I stood in the bedroom, hesitating about going to bed. There were moments of sinister silence, and then the full force of the gale came again in great moaning gusts. I could hear things clattering and falling outside, and I felt terrified. I prayed for protection for my sister and myself, and for all the neighbours, and although I decided to climb into bed and switch off the light, I remained sitting up.

  It was then I saw a shining form of pure light at the side of the bed, and all my fear left me. I felt calmed and strengthened, and waited for the Being to speak, but after a few minutes it vanished, leaving an inward request for me to open my Bible and receive its message. I had an “Olive Pell” Bible on my bedside cupboard, so I switched on my torch and opened the book at random. The pages fell open at the Psalms, and my eyes were instantly drawn to Psalm 4, verse 8. The words were: “I will lay me down in peace, and sleep; for Thou, Lord, makest me dwell in safety.”

  A pilgrim to Hereford Cathedral saw two of these radiant Beings, one on either side of the altar, just after the celebration of Holy Eucharist; and a few weeks before the Battle of Britain about eighteen of them were seen in St. Paul’s Cathedral focusing all their forces above the altar.

  The late Ivah Bergh Whitten, Colour Healer and Founder of A.M.I.C.A. (Aquarian Metaphysical Institute of Colour Awareness), was full of gratitude for the co-operation of these Angelic Beings, who were so clearly objective to her sight, and in a book called Light of Ivah Bergh Whitten by Dorothy Agnes Bailey, Mrs. Whitten is quoted as saying, “These Deva friends have ever been so much closer to me than even my best beloved friends on the earth planet. They seem always to understand my motives and to anticipate my wishes, surrounding us with deepest love and devotion.”

  She described them as being slight and exquisitely proportioned, and moving with a rhythm born of a gracious consciousness. “Some of them,” she said, “have a vehicle of pale violet, others of green, all emit some degree of luminosity. The largest and most beautiful ones have an effulgence resembling mother-o-pearl.”

  In Dr. Roland T. Hunt’s book, Fragrant and Radiant Symphony (C.W. Daniel Co, Ltd., 1937), he quotes the following extract from a letter written by Mrs. Ivah Bergh Whitten: “When I am ill (or in trouble) She (the Deva, or Guardian Angel) seems to cover me with the soft-rosy mantle of her loving consciousness, which appears to act as a sort of stethoscope, enabling her to detect my every vibration. If I am in pain, she sends a pale clear apple-green light, with a violet diffusion, something I have never seen with my ordinary healing lamp; it is more like a green light with a violet aura than anything I can describe. About it and through its radiance, there are soft notes of musical rhythm—the tempo seems to increase as the centre of the pain is reached; then, slowly, it fades to a dreamy softness of vibration, like the humming of the angels. I have no awareness of perfume until the pain has ceased; then, as the force withdraws, leaving only the faint rhythm of colour and sound, I am conscious of a most delicate violet odour.”

  Miss Josephine Burton, of Nottingham, who was in charge of some Girl Guides at Elton Camp, near Nottingham, felt her responsibility and earnestly prayed for their safety. During the night, while sleeping under canvas, she suddenly awoke to see a very bright and beautiful angel, with large wings, and it told her have faith that the girls would come to no harm while in her care. Then it disappeared.

  The late Douglas Hunt, M. A., of Hertfordshire, a part-time journalist and author of Exploring the Occult, told me that he had never seen fairies or angels, but when in the Chair of a Masonic Lodge (international Co-Freemasonry), he had been acutely conscious of the presence and help of the great Angelic Being that presides over the Chair, and he said there were also lesser Beings attached to the other offices in the Lodge.

  Miss Mary Evans had rhythmic movement classes in many parts of the country and overseas. She had been a pupil of the late Isadora Duncan, and was a member of the Order of the Cross. This radiant, joyous soul, who “lit up” a room when she entered it, told me that she was always aware of the Angelic Beings while she was dancing.

  Mrs. Ellen Hilton, who had a healing sanctuary in Lancashire, once lived in what was known as a Pilg
rim House, the doors and windows of which were never locked day or night—a fact that was known for miles around. There lived in the village a boy who in these days would be called a “problem child.” Brought into court for a serious offence, he was asked by the magistrate why, although he had broken into every other house, he had never attempted to steal from the Pilgrim House. “I couldna, sir,” he replied. “There wus allus angels at t’door.”

  A hush fell upon the court, then the magistrate said gently, “You know, Tom, that the doors and windows of that house are never locked?”

  “Aye, sir. That made no difference. I couldna geet in noways ‘cos o’ t’leets (lights).”

  I was told by Mrs. Elsie Fairful, of Brisbane, Australia, that every night before she went to sleep she saw a very beautiful angel standing high up on the right-hand side of what appeared to be a wide stairway of black and silver to which the Angelic Being always pointed.

  Mrs. Irene Bradshaw, wife of the Rev. Arnold Bradshaw, of Cambs., wrote in l956: “I wish I could believe in fairies. But I’ll tell you what I have seen—I’ve seen angels, and if I’d needed anything to convince me of life after death these would have done it. I was a small child when I saw them, but all my life they have been my most vivid memory. They were perfectly lovely. Some were blonde, and some were dark. They were all smiling and they had white robes with a bluish sheen. Some of them had wings. They spoke to me, and their voices were clear and sweet. They seemed to be saying goodbye to me, as one angel said: ‘Come, we must leave her now.’ They were quite close to me, and I put up my hand to touch the soft cheek of one of them. I could not understand all they said.”

  In 1933 Miss Sheila Bryant was sleeping in a room by herself in an old house, and at her bedside she had a small-framed picture, which was propped up waiting to be hung. Something wakened her suddenly out of a very deep sleep, and she found it was the picture which had slipped and fallen down. The room was full of a soft golden light, and at the foot of her bed a tall figure was standing, with the most beautiful shining face she could ever have imagined. He wasn’t looking at her but towards the fallen picture, and then the eyes turned to her and the whole face lit up even more luminously and smiled. They remained looking at each other, and Miss Bryant says she knew then what is meant in the Bible about there being “no speech nor language” in Heaven. Gradually the vision faded, and she went blissfully to sleep again, knowing she had been allowed to see her Guardian Angel. “There was no halo or anything of that kind,” she said, “but there was an intense golden luminosity emanating from this Angelic Being. He was very tall. I did not see his arms or hands, and the lower part of the figure was of course hidden by the bottom of my bed. There was no movement except of the head and the eyes turning from looking at the picture to look and then to smile at me. I do not remember the mouth—only the unspeakably wonderful eyes—first solemn and then smiling.”

  When Mrs. Norah de Courcy was eight or nine years old, she was sharing a room (in a house in Wiltshire) with her youngest sister, then a baby, who woke easily and cried a lot. She was therefore used to being very quiet even when awake, and as they were put to bed early she often lay awake for a long time. “This evening,” she recounted, “I think I had almost slept when [I] opened my eyes to see in the dusk-light an angel standing on the foot of my bed. The figure was short—three to four feet, I would say—and the lovely grey wings were folded, reaching to the feet like a cloak. I remember no surprise, only wonder and a great longing to touch those wings. I started to crawl to the end of the bed, and the angel was gone. I didn’t mention the vision for a long time, but when I did tell my mother, she said that, as a child in Ireland, she had once seen a ring of fairies dancing in mid-air, tiny creatures all bright in the dark.”

  Mrs. Christina Stark, of Washington, USA, said that she had seen a few angels, and she called these beings “emanations of the heavenly spheres.” Her friend, Mrs. Evelyn Paxton had been aware of the presence of angels many times. She had awakened in the morning to see by her bed a lovely figure robed in white, just standing guard over her. She has felt a softly moving breeze over her head in a closed room and received the impression of a voice: “I am Michael,” then a counter breeze just as gentle but different, followed by “I am Gabriel.” She knows the soft touch of their wings, and feels the quietude of their presence, which is external to her personal peace and yet conforms with it.

  The following are extracts from letters sent to me by Mrs. G. K. Evason, of Kent. “There are two angels with pure white wings who come and stand one on each side of my private altar. They have been seen by a number of people particularly during the war years, when I used to hold a group meeting here for the sending-out of peace vibrations regularly every week. One of these beings comes and stands behind me at times, and completely enfolds me with his wings for protection. I understand the wings are really unnecessary for flight, but are symbols of a high state of evolution. There appeared about two feet away from me an angel robed in pure white, with long white wings reaching from the shoulders to the heels, but I was not permitted to see the face, which was averted. The whole vibration was that of complete protection and purity. I have had a number of visits from this Angelic Being since then. He has a brilliant golden halo and golden auric radiations.

  “Tonight, as I joined in the Silent Minute, the form of the Radiant One appeared at my side, robed, as before, in pure white with trailing over-robe and golden halo. This vision always appears at the same time.

  “This last Sunday evening was one never to be forgotten. As I gazed at him he turned towards me and suddenly and deliberately opened out His wings. This was so clear and unmistakeable that I felt it completely answered all questions regarding the reality of the true Angelic Beings. No one can ever shake or destroy my knowledge regarding them.”

  Mrs. M. O. Weller, of Surrey, had a vision of a very tall, white-robed figure in her garden. The light around the being’s head was golden but so bright that she could not look at it. Afterwards, the garden seemed very dark, although it was afternoon.

  Mrs. Hilda Litchfield, late of Nottingham, gave me the following account. “As an only child, aged ten, staying in Kandy, Ceylon, with my parents, I slept in a large, lofty room with long window openings and jalousies. These were closed at night, but the light of the very bright moon streamed through between the laths. My father was seriously ill at that time, and one night I awoke to see, between me and the moonlit, a figure poised in the air about four feet from the ground. He was quite nine feet tall, and clothed completely in white. A wreath of leaves circled his head, and one long palm-leaf was held and rested against his right shoulder. The expression on his face was calm and beautiful, and he gazed towards the room where my father lay. I was very frightened and presently managed to cover my face with the sheet. I stayed covered for a long time before I dared to look again. When I did so, the figure was still there and remained for some time without moving, before gradually fading away.”

  Another account of a bedside vision came from Mrs. J. Burrows, of Nottinghamshire. “One night, while my mother was in a Nursing Home waiting to undergo a serious operation, I wakened suddenly and saw an angel standing at the side of my bed. Her face was lovely, and she had large wings and wore a diaphanous gown. Her feet appeared to be crossed, and as I watched her she slowly raised her arm and pointed heavenwards. It was as though she wished to resign me to the fact that my mother would not be cured. An unsuccessful operation was performed, and after about two years of great suffering, my mother passed on. The beautiful expression on the angel’s face will always remain in my memory.”

  M.K.F. Thornley, a pilgrim in the truest sense of the word, travelled different European countries, largely on foot, to seek out and reinvigorate ancient holy sites and holy springs, once hallowed places, now all too often neglected. In one of her letters to me, she wrote of her exhaustion following five weeks of arduous travel through mountain and valley, seeking out and linking the holy places of St. Michael: “The
great enthusiasm underlying the pilgrim’s quest consists in actually reanimating the holy cosmic centres of the planet in preparation for the new era, strengthening the beneficial powers of the mighty entities through human cooperation, re-consecration, and devotion.” There followed two of her experiences with angels: “When I was down at the point of Ballinskelligs, where my objective was a holy well of St. Michael, I knelt on the turf by the well to pray, and saw a ‘Shining One’ close to me, no taller than a human, and right on the ground, not in the air as I usually see them. It was only for a few moments, and then he vanished but I felt so happy. Then two peasant women came over the field with their pails for water from the well, and welcomed me almost affectionately, talking in their lovely voices as if we had known each other for years. The younger woman said ‘Here is the stone called St. Michael’s Foot, you can see where the toes was, but the stone’s almost wore away with crossing.’ She then pushed a little grass aside and showed me a grey stone by the well’s edge about eighteen inches long, roughly the shape of a foot, and there were the marks where countless fingers had crossed the stone, wearing away the grey surface and showing white. It was the exact place where I had seen the Shining One standing. We talked more together, and then I said very quietly and naturally: ‘And are the Holy Ones ever seen here now?’ She replied in the same natural, quiet tones: ‘Oh yes! Sometimes.’ I didn’t speak of my experience, but the naturalness of this short dialogue convinced me of her good faith and that in no sense was she ‘playing up’ to my question.

 

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