Today I was meant to see a client for healing but fate decreed that she postponed. This meant I could accompany my son and his new bride to Manchester Airport and wave them off on their honeymoon to Switzerland. As the return journey was another 2 1/2 hours, Mikey and I decided to stop off at a National Trust property named Quarry Bank (Cheshire) and walk our doggie round the beautiful grounds, whilst indulging in a little historical culture at the same time…
Some of you may have seen a recent Channel 4 series named The Mill: a period drama set in 1833 and based on real-life stories and people of the textile mill workers. We had not realised this drama had been filmed at this very Quarry Bank Mill! I for one was relieved to learn that the characters and events had only been loosely based on real life and events: To me, the huge mill with its working machinery and the most powerful watermill in Europe represented child labour and greedy mill owners, so I was relieved to find it wasn’t quite the dark satanic mill that had been portrayed on television. (I had been unable to watch after the first broadcast as it was too emotive.)
However, serendipity decreed that within minutes of arrival at the mill I had to answer a call of nature and found myself being swept along with a gaggle of young schoolgirls into the ladies! Safely ensconced in a cubicle I decided I’d just do a bit of fishing for any lost souls ~ and was immediately approached by another (spirit) gaggle of youngsters ~ 23 little girls who had perished during the early history of the mill and who ‘had not made it’ … Just as I moved this batch over to the other side, I had to laugh at the irony as a school mistress interrupted the noisy girls congregated around the wash basins with a loud voice: “GIRLS!!! (Deadly silence) If you are done here will you please leave NOW…” (I like to think I was far more gentle with my girls LOL!)
I chuckled to see the living girls lined up quietly on the cobbles outside and as I passed them I wanted to stand in place of their school teacher and give them another important lesson in life: Appreciate the life you have now, for the children who worked in the mill died from terrible diseases like cancer of the mouth from sucking cotton through bobbins or the groin from oils rubbing against them, bent over from 70 hour working weeks, were ‘contracted’ to work from the age of 8 years, right up until they were 18 ~ so there was no way out for them. The lasses who rushed to me in spirit form ‘had not made it’ into heaven and had haunted the mill with their bent up sick little spirits since the Victorian era. It is through LOVE that I was able to reunite them with their families waiting on the other side.
Later, in a room showing the stages of cotton, from the plant to the spinning wheels and then to the fabric, I found one lone cotton picker, and Mike obligingly hid my madly spinning dowser from pubic view as I retrieved his soul. We climbed down some cold stone steps, well worn from years of little feet up and down them, and I came across a crouching spirit child retching in a corner, which led me to find another 8 hiding on these stairwells. At the Accounting House I found the energies too oppressive to enter and hovered in the doorway. From here I cleared a huddle of 13 ‘accountants and desk wallopers’ (!) from the Dickens-type space of musty dark wood document draws and desks ~ obviously a combination of hard working accountants and their Mr Gradgrind type bosses who kept the mill running like machinery. They were no doubt relieved to find themselves back in the healing, gentle and loving existence of the After Life!