I remember after my father stormed out I was a bundle of nerves. My mother was somewhat cool and collected at the time. I also remember the spiritualist offering some kind of healing. Of course, I had no idea what healing was at that time. It was something with red roses and candles but to be honest that is all I remember. I think it was to bring calm and unity. HA! HA!

I continued going with my grandmother to various Spiritualist, she was determined that I have as much exposure as I could handle at my young age.  One day she took me to someone on the upper west side of Manhattan, in a brownstone basement apartment. I was already in school and was experiencing some problems but never mentioned anything. We entered the apartment, entered to a small living room, and off to the side was the kitchen. The man invited us to sit at the table. I remember his name was Mr. Campbell, looking back he was very impressive. Unlike the other spiritualist, he space was clear of any objects, no card, statues or even flowers. He looked at me and within a few minutes, he was telling me of the problems I was having in school including the names of the other boys. I was dumbfounded. How did he know that? Not even my grandmother knew about it. I cannot say he did a reading. At least not like the other women, it was a conversation matter of fact.

He talked for about an hour with us. He offered me some advice and a prayer to use when I would have a problem with the boys. It was empowering to be honest.  He also told my grandmother not to mention anything or make a fuss. He told her that I would be just fine and that I had many gifts.  I did not understand what he meant at the time so I let it slip away. I was too overwhelmed as to how he knew the names and my problem. I asked him how he knew, his answer was very simple he said your “guiding angle told me”. I think that he was the first person other than my grandmother to say guiding angle to me.

We visited him a few more times over the year and each time I felt empowered. He said that I was a curandero (healer).  He would instruct my grandmother, on how she can help me to develop my gifts, we both listened carefully.

It was not until years later that it all made sense to me what he was telling me about being a healer.

One day I must have been nine or 10 years old, it was lunchtime at school we were all playing outside before the bell would ring. I had gotten into a pushing match with one of the problem boys Kevin Driesell. He would always pester me. I remember I picked him up swung him around and he went flying hitting his ear against an old fashion phone booth the metal kind with the folding doors. There was blood from the cut in his ear.  He was on the floor crying I knew I was in deep shit with the nuns. All I can remember was that I fell to my knees next to him and placed my hands over his cut ear and closed my eyes.   I really did not know what I was doing.

I felt this power or energy coming from me, his ear stopped bleeding, and he stopped crying.  The other kids were standing around us as kids do in a fight but they were silent, I think in shock that I had stopped the bleeding. The crossing guard her name was Mary, made us stand up and she finished cleaning him up. She told the circle of children that they should not say anything. I was shaken. Not because I was afraid of the trouble I knew I would have but because I had never felt something like this before.

That was when I remembered what Mr. Campbell had told me a few years earlier. I also remember saying a fast prayer that I would not get into trouble with the nuns. What happened was strange; I told that I needed to go to church every day for 2 weeks and pray to save my soul because I was doing the devils work and needed to repent.  They called my Grandmother she had to come to school. They told her what happened and all she could do was smile at me. As if to say she was proud of me, she never told my mother.