I Met A Spirit of a Civil War Nurse
I entered into my meditation and I arrived at the fire. The Ancestors were seated and meeting around the fire. They were having a discussion tonight about the American Civil War. The American Civil War has always been an interest of mine. Growing up in an area between Northern Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania, I had close proximity and easy access to some of the major battles of the Civil war including Mannassas, Antietam, and Gettysburg. I would be able to travel to the battlefields in less than an hour and tour and learn as much as I could.
But that was a different learning. That was programmed teaching to learn about history from a particular perspective that wasn't my own in order to try to conform me into a certain way of thinking. Now, at the fire, I get to listen to the true history, the true stories, from the people who actually experienced it. But tonight would not be a lesson, a study, a visual tour of a battlefield while seated at the fire. In just a matter of minutes of sitting at the fire I would find myself pulled away to another realm to meet another spirit.
I don't know how to explain my gift to others, but really it's not for others to understand because it is my gift. Being Clairvoyant I have been able to interact with spirits, sense things, hear things and have experiences in other realms and dimensions. It doesn't happen all the time and I can't force it. Everything just has to align correctly and the universe has to lead me. I don't ask for it, I don't seek it, it just happens. Most of the time it happens in my meditational journeys or in the forest where I hike. It is in that forest that I have met many spirits and I believe there are at least two portals that I have found so far. It is during my meditational journeys that I always arrive first at the fire of my ancestors. I then either stay and learn from them, I speak to my guides, or I travel through the universe, realms and dimensions. Sometimes, as in the case tonight, I also get pulled away from the fire to communicate with a spirit.
I was excited to hear the Civil War stories tonight, but before I could even take the first one in I found myself being pulled away from the fire. I found myself traveling to a different realm and I arrived in a field that had very poor visibility due to the dense smoke rolling through the air.
I could hear the sounds of gunshots echoing nearby. I could see men laying on the ground, some in blue uniforms and others in gray. I soon realized I was on a Civil War battlefield. In front of me was a hill and at the top was a white tent. There was a lady standing in the entryway of the tent, motioning for me to come up to her.
I walked quickly to the top of the hill and standing in front of me was a young woman, wearing a solid dark dress made out of cotton. The dress was covered in blood and she was holding bandages in her hand.
It was at this point that I knew I was having another encounter with a spirit. Even though I wanted to stay with my ancestors, I have learned that when a spirit wants to contact you or communicate with you, it is important for me and for the spirit that I meet them. Most of the time they have a message for me or society and they also may need help for themselves.
This lady was frantic, troubled, and in a hurry to help others. She had little care or concern for herself and was determined to help the wounded men on the battlefield. I realized there were no wounded soldiers in the tent, and she wanted me to escort her through the battlefield. We started to journey to wherever a soldier had fallen to the ground. The lady, who was a nurse ,who I met had no concern for the color of the uniform, her only concern was the care and comfort given to the wounded and dying. She would stop and treat the soldiers she could. She would show her respect to those who had already succumbed to their wounds. She came to one soldier, a young man who looked as if he was in his teens. He was obviously dying and in the process of taking his last breaths. She sat on the ground next to him. Grabbing his hand, she held it tightly as he gazed in her eyes with the little sight he had remaining. She told him it was ok, she was with him. He couldn't speak as he was gasping for air. Seeing his fear and struggle to take his last few breaths, she began to sing to him. The sound of her voice rang in his ears, helping him to be more at peace with his inevitable fate. He took his last breath and laid still as the sound of a cannon exploded nearby. The Civil War nurse sat on the ground with the hem of the dress resting in a pool of blood, unfazed by the sounds of exploding cannon fire nearby. She continued to hold his hand and sing her song. As she finished the last chorus of the song she let go of his hand and placed it on his chest. She closed his eyes, stood, closed her eyes and I could see her lips moving in what appeared to be a prayer recital. When she was finished she grabbed her medical supplies and moved on to the next soldier.
She would continue to do this over and over again throughout this journey I had with her. She would often talk to me as she worked. Her words expressed the sorrow and difficulty she had doing this everyday. The gruesome injuries and all of the death she encountered were haunting her. She told me that in the latter years of her life, long after the war was over, the screams and moans of the soldiers remained in her mind and haunted her dreams.
I was silent. Taking all of this in. Here was this spirit, this young woman, still working, still walking, still treating, still a part of this battlefield long after she died. I could tell part of her wanted to move on and be at peace, but the nurse in her didn't want to give up or abandon those who still needed help. We arrived at a spot where I realized I couldn't go any farther and our journey was soon coming to an end. Realizing the same thing, she stopped and gazed into my eyes one last time. The thought crossed my mind that I was in the same spot she was over 100 years ago. Staring into the eyes of the dead wanting to help them, console them. She had helped so many crossover as they lay on the battlefield and observed as they departed this life and moved onto the next realm, but nobody had tried to help her . I looked at her, I told her it was ok, she had done everything she could. I told her it was ok for her to rest and to move on. She was thinking, struggling with a decision only she could make. She said thank you, but to my surprise she turned and walked off into the darkness of the battlefield continuing to treat the fallen soldiers.
Within seconds of seeing her disappear into the darkness my meditational journey was over and I found myself back in this realm, exhausted and perplexed by the journey I just experienced.
What was my purpose in meeting the spirit of the Civil War nurse? Did I fail in helping her move on? Was I just supposed to share her story with others? Bring awareness to the dedication and commitment that the women gave to serve others during the civil war? Just as today, the nursing profession is overlooked and does not get the recognition it deserves. What Was her message? The results of what unnecessary and unneeded wars bring? The ability to get past each other's differences and help and serve one another no matter what color our clothes or skin maybe? To thank those medical caregivers who are brave and strong while caring for others, but carry the burden into their own personal time? I don't know the answer to this. Maybe it's all of it. Maybe it was just a lesson for me.
In any event, I was given the opportunity to meet the spirit of the Civil War nurse. This is her story and I am sharing it with the world. Maybe, there is an individual lesson for each person in her story. You have to decide that.
The Spirit of the Civil War nurse, even after her death she is still providing care and helping both the dead and the living.
Blessed Be!
By Michael Walters
The Ancestor's Fire
Writing the voices of the unheard
