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Believe
Believe
Believe
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Believe

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DANNIE HINES, middle school art teacher, daughter and friend, is on a journey.

Her mother is preparing to leave this world. Principal Tillman has taken all of her classes in exchange for a class of students no one else wants to teach from the Juvenile Detention Center.

She receives help as she remembers events from her past. Events, which taught important lessons of life. There is also help coming from a very special relative, Riley, her uncle, now a spirit.

She also has a best friend Margo. They are kindred souls placed on the planet to help each other.

This book shows the reader a mother who asks God for just a little more time to help her daughter realize her gifts. It shows Flame, one of the students in Dannies class, trying to find her place in the world when her family has evaporated. It shows Dannies friend, Margo, struggling to heal her family from something she did.
It shows Dannie, desperately trying to help everyone and make her own peace with her family and her mother.

This book is about love, honesty, friendship, telepathy, out-of-body experiences, healing and more. It can help a lot of readers find a special kind of peace.

This book is for everyone. If you have ever felt in the midst of personal tragedy you were alone, this book Believe could offer you some peace. It creatively uses concepts of, teleporting, out-of-body experience and telepathy to take the reader along on a spiritual journey of one warm southern family.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateJul 15, 2013
ISBN9781481758666
Believe
Author

Diane C. Coates

Since the 1970’s through the present Diane C. Coates has been writing plays and screenplays. In 1999 she became a producer, writer, actor, editor of a public cable television show, Workshops Consortium Live. It airs weekly on the Manhattan Neighborhood Network, in New York City. 1971, she graduated from Howard University with a B.A. degree in art education. Later earned a Master’s Degree in Education majoring in experimental education. She has been a teacher and an artist for 34 years in the public school system. Her awakening to the paranormal and spiritual started in college. Presently Diane teaches 3D Animation at a charter high school in Washington, D.C.

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    Book preview

    Believe - Diane C. Coates

    Believe

    Diane C. Coates

    ah.png

    AuthorHouse™

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 1-800-839-8640

    © 2013 Diane C. Coates. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 7/12/2013

    ISBN: 978-1-4817-5864-2 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4817-5865-9 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4817-5866-6 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2013909872

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid.

    The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Contents

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2:       Edmonds High School

    Chapter 3:       Dec. 28, 1958

    Chapter 4:       The Hines’ Kids

    Chapter 5:       The Real Deal

    Chapter 6:       Faith

    Chapter 7:       Margo of 1960

    Chapter 8:       Dad’s Thought-Forms

    Chapter 9:       Margo Returns

    Chapter 10:       Night Rides

    Chapter 11:       Twig’s Party

    Chapter 12:       Flame’s Family Link

    Chapter 13:       Margo and Family.

    Chapter 14:       Seances.

    Chapter 15:       Uriel’s Message

    Chapter 16:       Flame on Fire

    Chapter 17:       Margo’s Arrival

    Chapter 18:       The Visitor

    Chapter 18:       Plan and Surprise.

    Chapter 19:       Homecoming

    Chapter 20:       Listening to What You Hear

    Chapter 22:       The Change

    Chapter 23:       Humble Prayers

    Chapter 24:       The Bridge

    Chapter 25:       Out of Body to Denver

    Chapter 26:       Kyle Returns

    Chapter 27:       Benny

    Chapter 28:       Servants of the Light

    Chapter 29:       Going Forward to the Past

    Chapter 30:       Listening with New Ears

    Chapter 31:       The First Step

    Chapter 32:       Transition

    I dedicate this book to God and all of us who’s loved ones have passed away only to find that in our dreams they are still sending us their love.

    Acknowledgement

    I thank God, my mother, Christine L. Coates, my father, John Edward Coates, all my relatives in spirit and flesh and my great friend Easter Yahya for giving me the love to create this book, Believe

    Preface

    We see a snapshot of a mother asking God for just a little more time to help her daughter realize her gifts; Flame, one of the students in Dannie Hines’ class, trying to find her place in the world with no family; Dannie, desperately trying to help everyone and make peace with her family and her mother; Margo, Dannie’s best friend, struggling to pull together her family split apart by something she did.

    This book is about love, honesty, friendship, telepathy, out-of-body experiences, healing and more. It can help a lot of readers find a special kind of peace.

    I started writing this book when my mother started her spiritual transition back to God’s heaven.

    We traveled from fainting spells in the kitchen, two or three day stays in the hospital to five years in a nursing a home. Each day I would spend time writing on my book Believe. It became very clear we were not alone on our journey. We had help.

    We all have help. Just listen. Watch. Close your eyes and see.

    Chapter 1

    PRESENT: MONDAY, April 17, 2012. 8.00 A.M. A workday I didn’t make.

    Muscles all over her body seemed to knot together in a ball lifting the center of her back, creating an arc. Her body convulsed again. Spittle dripped down the left corner of her mouth. Bam. Her apartment door opened. Did I open it? Bam. Two Medics rolled my eighty-six year old mother onto a gurney and out to the elevator. Bam. The ambulance door closed with my mother inside. Driver moves his mouth. He says something. My ears cleared. Hear him ask,

    Are you going to ride with her or follow us?

    Follow. I’ll follow, I heard myself say.

    In the car, did I run that red light? Memories of my dream came back, Memories of Momma, Dada, my first trip to Carolina and Momma Ora’s house; my grand momma. Was Momma going with her? God! Are you here? The traffic disappeared. I was standing in Momma Ora’s kitchen. Momma was slicing a thick piece of my grandma’s tripled layered cake. She looked directly into my eyes. I smiled. She turned away. Looking back at the cake and a glass of milk that now appeared beside it.

    Did she see me? Momma?

    She didn’t even look up. I walked around her like a 3D sculpture and she didn’t even see me.

    That’s when I noticed. I remembered a photo in a family album. Momma, in a black skirt, white fancy short sleeved blouse, hair in two buns on the side of her head. The date on the picture was 1950. Ten years before I was born.

    Why am I seeing this? Why are those horns blowing? Where are they coming from?

    The light was green. Traffic is everywhere. I have to go. I’m supposed to go. The hospital, ambulance, I remembered I’m back in my world. But fear of what I’d seen lied heavily with me. Felt it like death. Was my mother going back in her past? Was she going to die?

    Heard my father say he could feel when death was near. I couldn’t imagine what it felt like. Didn’t know it came with breath stopping fear. Didn’t know that seeing mental pictures of Momma from the past could trigger my fear of her leaving this life. I saw and went into the visions so completely. Who’s doing this? Momma? God? Is my momma going to die? I felt cold as if she was. I felt death near.

    Out loud I prayed to my dead grandma Ora, "I know she will go from my arms into yours. She will walk around your kitchen again; but please talk to God. Ask him if he has to take her now? Ask if she can be here a little longer with me.

    God? Does she want to go now? Please Momma Ora."

    When I walked into the ER of Lincoln Memorial Hospital paramedics had just wheeled momma in strapped tightly to the gurney. The twitch on the left side of her face was stronger. Her eyes were stretched wider than normal. Heard a nurse tell the tall blond hair paramedic,

    Wait here. They are cleaning up 117. Then you can move her in there.

    I didn’t attempt to talk to her, to anyone. Just sank down in a seat next to the registrar’s cubicle, dropped my head back against the wall, closed my eyes and escaped into my past memories.

    OPEN FIELD OUTSIDE OF BETHEL NORTH CAROLINA

    I was hovering over a huge field. Stars covered the sky. It must have been Carolina, the only place I’ve been where stars crowded the night heaven. Thin Mother Ora holding a baby was standing in the center of a huge circle of people. Knew they were all her relatives, even the white ones. People resonated. Their combined sounds were soft. Soothing.

    Momma Ora’s voice rose up like a sweet harmony over the sounds. This is my blood, holding the baby up, She is the one. The sight goes on through her. God, she is your instrument. Use her.

    Everyone stepped to the right at the same time as if following one thought. The huge circle started to move around. Mother Ora held the baby up. All focused on her and the child as they moved and hummed the sound, which burst into full song with lyrics. Lyrics of a song I felt I knew but I didn’t.

    Then the scene changed. The field, momma Ora and people faded and I was in an office somewhere. My momma and daddy were sitting on a couch across from me. Dada leaned his head back against the wall behind him. It was soft and spongy.

    Now we’ve finished your map. I’d like to acquaint you with your parents.

    I turned around quickly and saw a thin grayed out figure behind a desk. Couldn’t make out his features. He continued,

    The woman likes to be called Chris. She changed her name four times as a teenager; then she finally went to some government agency and had it official changed to Chris. She will tell you about it as you grow up. She’s a good honest woman. You will love her.

    I will?

    "Forget I said that. You will follow your heart and do what you want. Okay? Now the man next to her will be your father.

    Where am I?

    He survived childhood. Some of our angels took human form to help him through.

    I’m in heaven?

    They met. Now they’re in love. They are about to express their love. They are about to create you.

    I turned and looked. Those two people now were sitting side by side, kissing and touching on the couch. Their kisses were longer, deeper. My tongue felt thick in my mouth. Lights went from dim to dark. Couldn’t see anything at that end of the room

    Let them have some privacy. Chris is waiting to be your momma. And John, the man, wants you as his daughter.

    They know me?

    Both of them knew you. Several lives back. Now. Let’s stay focused here. You have the map.

    What map?

    You don’t have to follow it totally. It’s just an outline.

    Is that it on your desk?

    You’ve seen your Momma and Dada. Oh one other thing. He said as he folded this map thing up and put it in what looked like his pocket."

    Guides will normally be around throughout your whole journey.

    Guides

    We call them ‘God’s light.’ They help but don’t touch.

    Touch what?

    "Your life. You make all the decisions. They can lead you to the path. It’s your free will if you walk it or not. You have to light candles and talk to the moon for the arc and helper angel guys and girls, but they love to come when called. Your Aunt Lena, Maude, Charley Mae and Uncles Stan, Henry, and Richard will be around you in their afterlife. That list will grow. Most of our F.A.A.’S…

    What?

    "Family Angel Assistants are relatives who have crossed over. We encourage them to get involved.

    What exactly are you talking about?

    Your dead relatives. Helping you brings meaning to their afterlife. Builds up the love muscles, you know. Well got to go. Don’t get upset about forgetting this whole conversation. You’ll remember bits and pieces as you live on. About forty years from now the memories will come up. I’ll see you then.

    Heard him mumble something as the lights faded. The thick sensation on my tongue was more intense. Felt hot; took a deep breath. My eye rolled open capturing a close up view of momma’s mouth just about to kiss my forehead.

    It was early in the morning. I had the same dream I been having since two. Didn’t remember all the words. But I remember the place, map, parents on the couch, and my tongue. Thick. Numb.

    Wake up Dannie.

    Momma I moaned.

    I opened one eyes and looked into my Momma’s face slowly fading into patients on gurneys everywhere and a woman at the registrar’s desk. I had a dreamed or remembered seeing Momma Ora and the circle. There was something else. Don’t know what it was but my tongue felt thick.

    PRESENT: MONDAY, April 17, 2012. 8:30 A.M.

    For a moment I didn’t remember coming in from the parking garage; just felt an icy sensation of being totally alone. Didn’t remember sitting down in front of the emergency room registrar desk; just knew I was there yet far off some place looking from a distance at a short stocky built woman seated in front of me.

    What’s her name? The receptionist woman said.

    "Dannie and my momma’s name is Christine. I have all her insurance cards.

    "Hold all of that. Let me get a file started for her.

    The nurse working at the computer paused a second then answered, She’s in cubicle 107

    I need to see my Momma now. Christine Hines. Her name is Christine Hines. Had to move. Got up from the seat, turn pass the little desk area and saw her. Momma on the gurney was still twitching with mini seizures.

    Why aren’t you doing something for her? I yelled in the air.

    Woman, nurse, in white came into my view saying, We will do everything. She just came in. We are getting her a cubical so the doctors and nurses can see her. Have you finished with the registrar?

    No. But

    By the time you finish with them we will have had time to assign her a space and start working on her.

    She is still twitching.

    We will give her something to stop that soon. Truly she will be okay.

    I looked at her.

    She will. She said softly.

    Finished my business with the registrar then went to a small room in the Emergency room just as they were pulling Momma into the cubical. They pulled the green curtain behind her after she entered.

    My feet couldn’t move fast enough. Pull back the curtain and saw Momma still convulsing.

    When are you going to stop it?

    Just then a short thin blond-haired woman entered the cubical saying. I am Dr. Lawson.

    I am Ms. Bette. A large big boned woman, standing behind the doctor said. I will be your mother’s nurse. She’s going to be just fine." She said in her thick Jamaican accent.

    I watched as Ms. Bette’s long slim fingers tied a rubber band around Momma’s arm. Watched as her long slim fingers with black, pink flowered nail polish, very visible through her rubber gloves, pricked and pushed a needle in momma’s arm prepping it for the I. V. drip and injection of Delantin. I watched as the left side of momma’s face went from muscle twitches in wave patterns of motion to total rest as the Delantin took effect. Orgasmic flops stopped and her whole body, exhausted settled into rest. Only her chest now slowly moved up and down as she breathed.

    After she calms down we will take her for a CAT scan. Dr. Lawson said.

    Is she all right? Why? I panicked.

    "Just want to make sure. That’s why we want the scan.

    She was sedated and sleeping. I felt a slight breeze in the room; little warmer than a chill. Looked at momma. Did her hair move? Was there a breeze? Were we traveling in memories back to a safe place? Bethel? I could see the little white wooden frame house with low steps leading to the porch. I sat down in a chair next to her. Closed my eyes just for a second. Then Momma reached for my hand.

    Her gripped was gentle and strong. In a soft voice she said,

    Saw Riley. Everything’s going to be fine.

    Momma, do you mean Riley? Your brother?

    She didn’t answer. Just smiled. Closed her eyes. I sat in a hard wooden chair next to her. Riley. I use to dream about him. At least I think they were dreams.

    MOMMA’S GIFT

    After four days in the hospital Momma was able to come back home. The use of her left foot and hand, always weakened during her seizures, now had returned fully. I came home from work finding her in the kitchen refrigerator pulling out leftover salmon in a dish and some cold vegetables.

    Wait. You have to warm that up. I said

    I’m hungry.

    Okay. Sit and I’ll warm everything. It will only take a minute. Eat this. I said handing her a fat vanilla cookie. Not eating and low blood sugar caused her to shake. Now she was eating better. My teaching job ended at three thirty, but I was taking half days off the rest of the week since she had been released from the hospital. This allowed me to be at home with her in the afternoon and evenings. She ate the cookie fast. Guess she was afraid too, afraid of starving and triggering more seizures which seemed to run in cycles. Every three months she’d have one.

    While she ate a second one I added more vegetables and fish to the mix she had started. Moments later we were smacking everything down at the dinner table. Forks softly touching plastic plates was the only sound heard. Momma broke the silence.

    Thank you momma. She said.

    Are you thinking about Momma Ora again? I asked. I can’t hear but I see her in my mind sometimes and in dreams. I continued.

    Does Riley still visit you? she asked.

    No. I haven’t had a dream about him in years.

    Really?

    Guess he moved on. She said

    I can’t talk to dead relatives, Momma. I don’t have your gifts. I responded.

    Everyone has gifts. Especially you. She replied

    Did you always know? I asked.

    I didn’t know anything about spirits except to run from them. Your grandma Ora and Uncle Bud could sense things. I had feelings and dreams. When Riley, my brother died I thought I would die too. Apart of me went with him. One time we went to the store. Momma gave us each five cents. We brought jumbo jawbreakers. Riley put one in his mouth. It went half way down. He started choking and turning bluish. I grabbed him from behind and tried to push the big candy up and out of his mouth. It popped out.

    Who told you how?

    How what? She said, "My brother was in trouble I just knew how to help him.

    One time Jasper Smith, Beetle Parks and Tommy Ryan chased my brother across the playground. They all were beating him with their fist and feet. I saw it all from my seat near the window in my classroom. Asked the teacher if I could go to the bathroom. Took my thick history book with me. When I got outside I slammed Tommy Ryan first across the top of his head. Jasper got it in the stomach and Beetle took his hit in the mouth. Knocked out two teeth.

    Tommy, grabbing the top of his head managed to say, ‘Run. It’s Riley’s crazy sister Chris.’

    Riley was my best friend and my brother."

    How and when did he die?

    My Momma stopped and looked out the window. When she turned back brightness surrounded her face. "Seventy-two years ago and it feels like yesterday. We came home from school. Riley sat at the dinner table but didn’t eat. He wanted to lie down. Said he had a stomachache. My sisters and I did our homework and went to bed. That evening, about eleven o’clock my father came in. I could hear Momma telling him. ‘Riley had a burning fever, a pain in his side, can’t keep anything on his stomach.’

    Daddy said: ‘I’ll give him some castor oil. He’s probably constipated.’

    During the night he got worse. They took him to the hospital over in Greenville. The next day they brought us over to the hospital to see him. My best friend died holding my hand. With his last words he said: Haven’t I got some beautiful sisters,

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