My Library

come to help. He came as a result of my problem. Still, he offered no words of comfort, nor did he attempt to calm or reassure me. I never saw the helper who took me on the voyage to visit Doctor Gordon in Locale two . I felt his hands and heard his voice, no more. The same applied to the helper who, a week later, commented that I had already made the trip when I attempted to do so again. There is some inherent acceptance of the assistance without question. Rarely has it occurred to me at the time to turn and identify the helper. It seems a rather natural thing. The two young men who took me to the apartment after the seance meeting do not seem to fit into the typical category here. There was a definite sense that they came for that particular purpose and nothing else. This brings up the next peculiarity. Of all the helpers from whom I have obtained some repeatable identification, only one have I been able to identify a second time. In my visit to Agnew Bahnson in Locale two , someone held me in position to see him. The feeling of gentle but firm hands on each side of me was very strong. The same hands, turning me around to leave, much as one steers a blind person, could not have been more vivid. It was another case of a helper responding to a specific desire on my part. When I panicked, screamed, and prayed against the barrier on my way back, no help came. When I was being teased and tormented by the entities, no help came. When I was attacked by the beings so savagely, no help came. More accurately, if it did, I was not aware of it What is the difference? How do "they" decide when to help, and when to leave me alone? I do not know. Most of all, who quietly insisted that I return to the physical when I drifted in that seemingly eternal bliss? I do not know whether to be grateful or sad for that particular help. I do not classify the "host" (Chapter 12) as one of the same helpers, yet he may well have been. He is one of those whom I would have no difficulty recognizing if I saw again. He was different in that I did get an impression of warm friendliness and comradeship, but he was in some manner not quite the same as I—older, knowledgeable in another field. He was different in that he came forward and offered his help. This was one of the few times that the option was mine. Strangely, the other times I needed help badly, none appeared—e.g., the wild experiences of seeming to be in someone else's physical body (Chapter 12). On the surface, this would appear to have been a most serious situation demanding immediate aid. The notes show no indication whatsoever of