1/31/33 EC's letter:
Yours of the 27th has been received. The questions you ask
are very interesting and, to me, very much worth while. All
through the years I think I have been (possibly from
necessity quite a matter of fact individual. No doubt all my
childhood and boyhood associates were also quite matter of
fact. Consequently, I have gotten far away from many of the
experiences that were very near and dear to me as a little
child. As I look back upon the various experiences I rather
persuade myself they have been steps in my development.
Perhaps if I had paid more attention to them the present
would be quite different.
I don't know whether or not I can give you sufficient insight
to be worth while, as to just what took place during those
experiences of my early childhood when I visited unseen
playmates; for I will have to admit that - except for a
general outline of my life, in which this subject is touched
on just a little - I have never attempted to put those
experiences in writing. So, if my letter appears somewhat
disconnected or unreasonable, know that it is because of a
physically developed body (and possibly a sane mind)
attempting to keep within the bounds of reason.
Except the fairy stories of Grimm and Hans Andersen, I have
never read of others' experiences. While I have had a little
correspondence with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and have one or
two of his books, I have not read the one you mention. I
would love very much to read it, and will see if my son can
obtain it from the Norfolk library.
These are at least some of my experiences. As to just what
was the first experience, I don't know. The one that appears
at present to be among the first, was when I was possibly
eighteen or twenty months old. I had a playhouse in the back
of an old garden, among the honeysuckle and other flowers.
At that particular time much of this garden had grown up in
tall reeds, as I remember. I had made a little shelter of
the tops of the reeds, and had been assisted by an unseen
playmate in weaving or fastening them together so they would
form a shelter. On pretty days I played there. One
afternoon my mother came down the garden walk calling me. My
playmate (who appeared to me to be about the same size as
myself) was with me. It had never occurred to me that he was
not real, or that he wasn't one of the neighbors' children,
until my mother spoke and asked me my playmate's name. I
turned to ask him but he disappeared. For a time this
disturbed my mother somewhat, and she questioned me at
length. I remember crying because she had spied upon me
several times, and each time the playmate would disappear.
About a year or eighteen months later, this was changed
considerably - as to the number of playmates. We had moved
to another country home. Here I had two favorite places
where I played with these unseen people. One (very
peculiarly) was in an old graveyard where the cedar trees had
grown up. Under a cedar tree, whose limbs had grown very
close to the ground, I made another little retreat, where -
with these playmates - I gathered bits of colored glass,
beautifully colored leaves and things of that nature from
time to time. But, what disturbed me was that I didn't know
where they came from nor why they left when some of my family
approached. The other retreat was a favorite old strawstack
that I used to slide down. This was on the opposite side of
the road (main highway) from where we lived, and in front of
the house. The most outstanding experience (and one that I
am sure disturbed her much) was when my mother looked out a
window and saw children sliding down this strawstack with me.
Of course, I had a lovely little retreat dug out under the
side of the straw ring, in which we often sat and discussed
the mighty problems of a three or four year old child. As my
mother looked out, she called to ask who were the children
playing with me. I realized I didn't know their names. How
were they dressed, you ask? There were boys and girls. It
would be impossible (at this date) to describe their dress,
figure or face, yet it didn't then - nor does it now - occur
to me that they were any different from myself, except that
they had the ability to appear or disappear as our moods
changed. Just once I looked out the window from the house
and saw the fairies there, beckoning me to come and play.
That time also my mother saw them very plainly, but she
didn't make any objection to my going out to play with them.
This experience, as I remember now, lasted during a whole
season - or summer.
A few years afterwards (when I had grown to be six or seven
years old) our home was in a little wood. Here I learned to
talk with the trees, or it appeared that they talked with me.
I even yet hold that anyone may hear voices, apparently
coming from a tree, if willing to choose a tree (a living
tree, not a dead one) and sit against it for fifteen to
twenty minutes each day (the same time each day) for twenty
days. This was my experience. I chose a very lovely tree,
and around it I played with my playmates that came (who then
seemed very much smaller than I). We built a beautiful bower
of hazelnut branches, redwood, dogwood and the like, with
wild violets, Jack-in-the-Pulpit, and many of the wild mosses
that seemed to be especially drawn to this particular little
place where I met my friends to talk with - the little elves
of the trees. How often this came, I don't know. We lived
there for several years. It was there that I read the Bible
through the first time, that I learned to pray, that I had
many visions or experiences; not only of visioning the elves
but what seemed to me to be the hosts that must have appeared
to the people of old, as recorded in Genesis particularly.
In this little bower there was never any intrusion from those
outside. It was here that I read the first letter from a
girlfriend. It was here that I went to pray when my
grandmother died, whom I loved so dearly and who had meant so
much to me. To describe these elves of the trees, the
fairies of the woods, or - to me - the angels or hosts, with
all their beautiful and glorious surroundings, would be
almost a sacrilage. They have meant, and do yet, so very
much to me that they are as rather the sacred experiences
that we do not speak of - any more than we would of our first
kiss, and the like. Why do I draw such comparisons? There
are, no doubt, physical manifestations that are a counterpart
or an expression of all the unseen forces about us, yet we
have closed our eyes and our ears to the songs of the
spheres, so that we are unable again to hear the voices or to
see the forms take shape and minister - yea strengthen us -
day by day!
Possibly there are many questions you would ask, as to what
games we played. Those I played with at the haystack were
different from those in the graveyard, or in the garden.
Those I played with in the wood were different. They seemed
to fit more often to what would interest or develop me. To
say they planted the flowers or selected the bower, or the
little cove in which my retreat was built, I don't think
would be stretching it at all, or that they tended these or
showed me - or talked to me of - their beauty. It was here
that I first learned to read. Possibly the hosts on high
gave me my first interpretation of that we call the Good
Book. I do not think I am stretching my imagination when I
say such a thing. We played the games of children, we played
being sweethearts, we played being man and wife, we played
being sisters and brothers, we played being visitors and
preachers. We played being policemen and the culprits. We
played being all the things that we knew about us.
No, I never have any of these visions now, or - if any - very
rarely.
In a reading one time, it was said by those present that I
waxed very eloquent in regard to these very experiences, when
we were attempting to locate some minerals or oil on the land
where I lived as a child (for all these places where I lived
were only a mile or so apart). Two stenographers were
attempting to write this reading, but failed to get any of
it; so what I am telling you is thirdhand information. Those
present reported that they were awestruck, as if they were in
the presence of something that prevented them from even
moving - except to smile or weap for joy. It seems that as
soon as I became unconscious, according to their reports, a
conversation started between many others and myself - but
only my voice could be heard. Many questions were asked by
the one conducting the reading at the time, but there would
only be the reiteration of those days we had spent together -
and of their longing for me to soon join them, that we might
continue with all the things we had enjoyed during those
days. This conversation, they said, continued for almost
three hours, and the seven individuals present were even
afraid to approach me when I was finally awakened. The one
with whom I had been very close was afraid to even sleep in
the same room with me that night.
But, as all such experiences, it was gradually explained
away by our beautiful material-mindedness - saying it was
nothing but imagination and the like.
What it all means, I don't know that I can comprehend or
understand. As I have said to you before, all manifestations
must be of that divine influence or force we call God. All
forms of life, seen and unseen, are essences and
manifestations of that One. HE would gather us together, as
the Master said "even as a hen gathereth her chickens under
her wing, but ye will not!" We are so cocksure of ourselves,
we want to stand alone.
Now, I hope all this reminiscing will at least be worth
while. It is only my experience. I'm not asking anyone to
believe it. We can't experience for another. We may only
see the effects of what another has visioned or experienced,
in the manner of life lived by another - and then judge by
that which the individual has set as the standard.
I'm glad you have at last gotten your things together for
your treatments. [See 464-13.] Somehow, I feel assured
that you're going to receive the most helpful and beneficial
results that you have ever had from your treatments. We
have reached that age where there has been such a
consciousness builded as to require much longer for the
physical body to respond to any influences that may make for
better coordination in the physical, the mental or the
spiritual body. We must with patience carry on, for - as the
Great Teacher said - we should remember that it is in
patience that we learn to possess our souls.
We are having a lovely day here; it certainly makes me feel
like getting out and digging in the earth - though it's a
little bit damp yet, from our rain, wind and storm, for
anything of the kind.
Let us hear from you whenever you have the opportunity. Know
that we are always anxious and glad to hear from you. We
hope we may in some manner say something, do something, be
something, that will give a little hope and help to you in
some way or manner.
All send our kindest regards.
Sincerely,
EC:GD
3/08/33 EC's letter to Mrs. [
464]:
Everything is quite upset here, much as I'm sure it is in
your part of the country, with the general conditions that
have come to pass regarding our financial system. I hope,
though, that there will be the guiding hand of "that
something" in the ways and means of the individuals who have
such things in charge, that this wonderful country of ours
will enjoy not the pleasures of the flesh pots of Egypt but
the privilege of being able to manifest better the love of
God that may be shed abroad at all times. If His presence
abide with us, we may be sure we will be lifted up. If His
presence abides with those who are directing, we may be very
sure it will all come out right. Though it may appear to us
as being in a great muddle, if He fights our battles no one
in power could resist.
The other day I had a little experience I'll tell you about.
A lady came out and brought me quite a number of little
plants. The lady with her said she was rather envious of
them, as she thought her friend was fixing them for her, but
after she came and had her reading she felt she knew exactly
why the friend had brought them to me - she knew why those
plants and shrubs looked like they really enjoyed me hand-
ling them.
A long time I have been wishing for some bulbs of tube roses.
To me they are very desirable, but owing to the high price
most of the nurseries put on them I've never been able to get
hold of any. But the other day a man came in with some
chickens from the country. [Mr. Dozier?] He saw where I had
been digging around in the ground. He said, "I see you are
fixing for some flowers, Dr. Cayce." I said, "Yes. I love
flowers." "So do I," he replied. "I live way down in the
country, and I always have every sort of thing. I have one
thing I would like to bring you, if you care for them. Do
you like tube roses?"
So, at last I have a little bunch of the tube roses, that may
be really beautiful. Don't you like them?
We wish for it, we pray for it, we try to live it - and in
His time He sees fit that we may have it. This, I am sure,
applies to material things, to spiritual things, to our
mental abilities.
Let us hear from you whenever you have the opportunity. I
certainly hope this finds you feeling a whole lot better.
Sincerely,
EC:GD
Edgar Cayce Readings © 1971, 1993, 1994, 1995 by the Edgar Cayce Foundation