Angel of Auschwitz (8 page)

“I have a repertoire of stratagems to outwit the guards. I can distract them and divert their attention from where you are working. I can confuse them by projecting alter egos into their minds. They may see you, but they will not recognize you. I can serve as a spy and an agent of intelligence. I can listen to strategic conversations and report back to you.

“Realize that being transparent has many advantages. I can merge with your energy field so the light will pass through you. I can teach you how to use the laws of physics to create a shield of invisibility. With my protection, you will be able to accomplish more than you ever could alone. Let’s make a deal now.” The old ghost knew many tricks for subterfuge and deception. He had accurately appraised my skepticism and was prepared to persuade me to work with him.

“Second, I have designed a test for you, Professor. Go to the officers’ kitchen behind the mess hall. Enter the pantry and steal for me five kilos of groceries. Bring me the sack of food tomorrow afternoon.” Hunger gnawed at my insides. I was always thirsty, but drank sparingly because the water was contaminated with typhus.

“I am free to come and go as I please,” he answered. “I can bring you whatever you want.”

“Third, is there anything else?” I said seriously.

The professor stood up. It was time to move on. “Let us bid
au revoir
to our bird allies,” he suggested. We began to walk, following the barbed-wire fence line. Leaning on his cane, the old ghost hobbled along. He walked hunched forward, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Can I trust this ghost?
I wondered again.
Is he hiding something?
“Now, old man,” I said, “Don’t hold anything back. Be forthright.”

Hearing these words the professor dropped his cane. Locking his eyes onto mine he stood up straight and tall. Stretching out his arms, his figure appeared like a crucifix. A golden light began to radiate from
the cross as the ghost became transfigured by the light. A churning cumulus cloud appeared above each shoulder. As the whirling motion slowed, I was able to make out thousands of tiny faces floating within each cloud.

“Who are they?” I asked. “Whose faces do I see?”

“These are the faces of souls who have lost their way. They don’t remember who they are. They don’t know how to return Home to the Heart of God. They are the multitudes seeking salvation. They are the burden I must carry. I must assuage my guilt. I must make amends for forsaking my people.”

I watched in awe as thousands of tiny faces showed themselves and disappeared. I looked into their eyes, and they looked back at me. My heart broke with compassion to see the faces of the fallen ones. They were the spirits of the dead who had attached themselves to Boris. He walked hunched forward because he was carrying this astral weight.

“Sudden death is a shock to the soul,” Boris explained. “These souls that I carry are the spirits of the dead who have been wandering about, confused and disoriented. They are bound to the earthly plane by desire. At the moment of death they did not claim their freedom. They were unprepared for the journey into light.”

“How did they find you?” I asked.

“My guilt attracted them to me. The weight I carry is the price of my ticket to martyrdom. Have mercy on the souls of the dead. Natasza, you must help me. Thousands yet to die will need you. Your compassion will attract them like moths to a flame. Your spiritual power will sustain them. God has chosen you. God has placed you here. Answer His call.

“God in His mercy for suffering humanity has sent one of His angels to deliver His people. The angel of deliverance at Auschwitz is called Natasza.”

A
S MY SPIRITUAL GUARDIAN
, Boris protected me from danger. He helped me to perform my healing work free from the observation of the Nazis. To summon him I called “Boris!” with the force of my mind. As his astral form appeared before me, I telepathed, “I need your assistance, Professor. I don’t want the guards to witness my activities. I don’t want the women of my barracks to be aware of my absence. I want to be
invisible
. As a ghost, I surmise you have some expertise in disappearance.”

“My child,” he answered, “I have an exercise for you to practice. Soon you will grasp this technique and be able to disappear at will. Then you can carry on your ministry unseen by enemy eyes.” Boris’s eyes twinkled. He was delighted to have such an eager student. He remembered his happy days as a university professor, standing in front of a classroom, looking into all the bright eyes of students seeking truth and knowledge.

“Begin with a prayer,” he instructed me. “Thank God for honoring you by placing you here where the need is so great.”

“I have committed my life to serve God,” I replied.

“With this exercise, you will learn to use the power of your mind to raise the frequency of your energetic field. You will vibrate at a frequency beyond the range of human sight. To begin, command the molecules of your body and surrounding aura to spin in a counterclockwise direction. Become familiar with the sensation so you do not become disoriented. Then increase the speed of the spin. When the acceleration reaches its peak, you will feel lighter, almost like you can float away.

“This practice requires total concentration. Do not lose your focus for an instant. This is a warning: stay calm at all times. Do not allow yourself to be triggered by emotional reactions. They can sabotage your mission. Sudden changes, fright, and anger can upset your mental balance. One moment of lapse in attention is all that is needed for your energy to formulate into an image that can be seen. Do not allow emotional vulnerability to set the stage for your downfall.”

During the final years of his life, Boris worked diligently to develop those psychic abilities he had previously scorned due to his intellectual arrogance. He taught me how to control and direct energy so my work
would be more effective. He showed me how to create shields around my body as a form of psychic protection. He taught me the practice of merging, as his astral presence blended with my physical form. If anyone looked in my direction, they saw a haze where I was standing.

He masterminded a repertoire of diversionary tricks to fool the guards, to distract attention and deflect observation, so that I could not be seen or recognized. By mental projection, he sent thoughts and visual images into the minds of onlooking guards to divert their attention. At times he would create a disturbance behind them so they would turn their heads away from me.

While I was doing healing work in other parts of the camp, Boris used mental projection to cover my absence. At my barracks, he sent visual images of my physical self to several of the women at once. Under the night sky I sneaked back to my bed and woke up with the others.

T
HE CAMP WAS SITUATED
in the countryside of southern Poland. Many of the nearby farms were abandoned, the fields overgrown with weeds. Wildflowers reclaimed the land. Bees and butterflies savored the sweet nectar of nature’s harvest. Ground squirrels gleefully dug their tunnels, free from the harrow, the disc, and the destructive tools of man.

A few kilometers north of Auschwitz was an abandoned potato farm. Attached to the eaves of a ramshackle barn was a small hornets’ nest. Weeks earlier Boris had discovered the nest, and now he was ready to use it to its full advantage. Carefully he removed the nest and placed it in a box. He smiled as he anticipated seeing these angry hornets arrive at their destination. He did not worry whether the hornets got angry at him because a ghost cannot be stung.

With the box nestled under his arm, he entered the pantry room of the officers’ mess and hid the nest in the spice cabinet behind the honey jar. Second duty cook Sergeant Drechsler gasped in surprise as he opened the cabinet door looking for oregano. A swarm of trapped hornets escaped into the kitchen and buzzed around the heads of the soldiers on kitchen patrol.

“Damn it!” Big brave Nazi soldiers ran out the door like scared chickens chased by a hungry wolf. Seizing this opportunity, Boris rushed into the empty room, grabbed a basket, and quickly began to fill it with potatoes, fruit, sauerkraut, brown bread, and biscuits.

When he arrived at the rear of my barracks, he was doubled over laughing. One of the soldiers had tripped over a table leg and had landed in the garbage. His blond hair was covered with potato peelings, and his chin was dripping with coffee grounds.

“P
ROFESSOR
B
ORIS,”
I
SAID
in earnest. “How do I know God?”

“Your concepts about the nature of God keep you from knowing Him. God is infinite and cannot be understood by the mind. To realize the Truth, you must give up all your beliefs. To truly know, you must surrender all knowledge. The path of knowledge will not lead you to the Truth. Knowledge is based on the past. Knowing is experienced in the moment, when the mind is still. Knowing takes place in the heart.

“To know God is to feel His presence in your heart. To know God is to see the beauty of creation. To know God is to recognize your Self in everyone you meet. To know God is to know that you are love.”

The Truth that I recognized as the voice of my heart reassured me of the ultimate victory of love. I knew that love is invincible because love is the essence of God. Boris spoke to me about the nature of love: “As a minister, you act as the hand of God reaching out to heal humanity. You serve as a channel of divine love in service to the world. The love we feel is God expressed through us. His love sustains all of creation.

“As a healer, know that love is the most potent of all medicines. Love is the greatest power in the universe, greater than the might of all the armies of the world. Hitler’s rabid assault on humanity will fail. The power of love will win the war by conquering the hearts of mankind.”

“I
MUST KNOW THE
T
RUTH,”
I told my mentor. “The Truth is my salvation.”

“It is your mind that is searching,” explained the professor. “The mind asks endless questions. In its arrogance it pretends to know answers. Realize that nothing can be known by the mind.”

“Oh, Boris, what you say makes no sense.”

“The mind is terrified of the unknown,” he continued. “It equates stillness with death and activity with survival. To escape its fear of annihilation, it creates thought after thought in an incessant stream. For the sake of security, the mind builds constructs of belief and edifices of knowledge. It believes that knowledge is power and that the accumulation of knowledge enhances the capacity to survive. Do you see, Natasza? The mind is grasping for something to hold on to. But the Truth is freedom itself. It cannot be captured by the mind.”

“Do you mean that the Truth cannot be understood by the mind?” I asked.

“Correct. It lies in the stillness of the depths of the infinite ocean, below the surface mind-waves of thought.”

“How do I discover the Truth?” I wondered.

“Dare to meet the terror of death and see what does not die. Surrender to the presence of eternal love in the silence of your heart. Dive deep into the unfathomable mystery, into the heart of all being. Divine grace will bless you. The Truth will meet you there.”

“T
HOUGHT AFTER THOUGHT, LIKE
an incessant stream, my thinking mind goes on and on,” I complained to Boris. “I feel overwhelmed by the responsibility of my mission. My mind is searching for answers, trying to figure it all out. How do I find inner peace?”

Boris understood my dilemma. “The mind is a warrior god obsessed with survival,” he explained. “Wearing the armor of defense, brandishing the sword of offense, it fights the battle of life. “Who is your master, the mind or the heart?” he asked.

“My mind is in charge,” I answered. “It is the job of my mind to solve the problems I face. Like a rat racing on a wheel, my thoughts go round and round. What should I do, dear friend?”

“Let the mind rest. Surrender to love,” he advised me. “When the mind is still, you see the perfection of all things without needing to change anything. Let the wisdom of love be your guide as you do your service for humanity. The heart knows the Truth. Follow your heart.

“At the core of your being is the spiritual heart. Within a sacred chamber of the heart is a portal opening to all realms and dimensions. Divine love flows through the portal of the heart, bringing the sunshine of love to the world. The heart is the temple of the living God. In the Temple of the Heart, Love and Truth are one.”

D
EEP WITHIN THE SACRED
center at the core of my being, I felt the living presence of God. His voice caused my heart to move and tremble as He spoke the words of Truth.

The Truth carried a vibration that I could feel and recognize. I was able to live the Truth in the world because I knew it from within. My union with God was my marriage to the Truth.

“I speak to you in the silence of the heart,”
God said to me.
“Seek Me first. See Me in all things. I am always with you, my daughter. I am the One who never leaves.”

“Dear Father, I am afraid of death.”

“There is nothing to fear, my child. You are eternal life.”

“What is the path of humanity?”

“To know Me.”

“What is the purpose of life?”

“To express love. The kingdom of heaven lies within the heart. Unconditional love is the key to open all doors. To love, be true.”

D
ESPITE MY OWN SUFFERING
and the agony endured by my comrades, deep in my heart I knew a higher truth. I knew that
love is the answer
, that
love
is the great healer that will set humanity free. I knew that the infinite power of love could overcome every challenge and heal all errors.