One afternoon while I was sitting alone my heart started pounding at an uncontrollable rate.  A sudden weakness came over me and the pressure in my head was so great it was all I could do to keep from fainting.  Suddenly I felt the blinding realization of the power of the Spirit within me.  This Divine spark was revealed to me as the Light of my Soul. The impact of this Light caused me to review a large unresolved question I had about an earlier experience in my marriage.  I felt confident that I would find the answer to any question I might have, and that I would have the courage to go wherever this quest would take me.

    My thoughts went back to the state of my marriage in 1953.  I had met Ted, my husband, in Lancaster, Pennsylvania a few months after I arrived there from Minnesota in 1944.       Traveling to Lancaster was my first train ride.  It was also my first trip outside the state of Minnesota.  Everything was new and exciting.  I remembered how changing trains in Chicago had made me feel apprehensive.  I had tried so desperately to give the impression that I was older than my seventeen years.  The train station was crowded with people hurrying in every direction.  Gripping my instructions in my hand to find the next connection, I had paused a moment to look over the railing from the top of the stairs to the level below.  Seeing the crowded mass of soldiers in uniform shocked me into the reality that our country was involved in World War II.

    The timing of my train connections was close, so I hurried down the stairs and pushed my way through the crowd.  The sudden thought of being left behind terrified me.  It had never crossed my mind what I would do if everything didn't work out as I planned.  Happily all went well; I made my connections and even enjoyed my adventure.

   The decision to go East or West after high school graduation had been a toss up.  I had a wonderful time toying with the idea of complete freedom, however, when it came down to the actual decision I chose Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  I had a special friend, Sissy, who met me at the station when I arrived.  Sissy and I had been very close in school in Minnesota and she was now staying with relatives in Lancaster while her husband served in the Army. 

    Everything was different in a city of 60, 000 people compared to my home town with a population of only about 1200.  I found myself feeling a long way from the farm and I was very grateful for Sissy's friendship during the following weeks.  Many homes in Lancaster were built in rows with an attached common wall between them.  The streets were neatly planned and it was easy to determine the direction of East, West, North and South with the main streets leading to the downtown center Square.  This was important because it helped me acclimate to this new environment, after living in the wide open spaces of the Midwest.

    The City and all the people seemed friendly to me and I decided to make Lancaster my home.  My choice was to live in the downtown YWCA where I met young women from all over the state.  They came from mining towns and country towns to work in the factories that had been converted for the war effort.  Lancaster was close to the Naval Base in Maryland and the service men would come into the city when they were on leave.   This area was bustling with people involved with the war effort in one way or another. 

    The idea of working in a factory didn't appeal to me.   I'd done that at home, so I found work in a dental laboratory after assuring the owner I would not leave after the War was over.  I was paid less than the women were making in the factories, but my working conditions and job security made up the difference. Within a few weeks I knew I didn't want to return to Minnesota.  Mother was not happy about my decision, but finally accepted it.  Some of the choices I had made seemed to reassure her that I could take care of myself.

    The young women living at the YWCA were friendly and I soon found it easy to fit in.  They gave me a feeling of belonging and helped me overcome periods of homesickness.  One of the younger girls, Mim and I became special friends.  Mim had come to Lancaster from a northern mining town to work at the Elgin Watch factory.  Her shiny black air and pale skin made her stand out wherever she went.  She was engaged to a student who was attending Franklin Marshall College and wore his Fraternity Pin.  The college was located just a few blocks from the factory where she worked.  Because of the war, some courses at Franklin Marshal, traditionally a men's college, were now open to women at night school.  Since art was my passion I enrolled in art and business courses.  Mim's fiancée, Tom was helpful in showing me around the campus.  He was to graduate the following year from the Protestant Reformed Seminary, located at Franklin Marshal College.

    Shortly after enrolling at college, Mim and I found an apartment. Tom and his roommate Ted helped us move from the YWCA. Ted and I were attracted to each other immediately.  Everything about him appealed to me, his brown curly hair, deep blue eyes and sensitive manner.  It was easy for us to get to know one another, as we liked many of the same things and conversation was comfortable from the start.  

    Everything in my life was moving along great.  Ted and I saw each other whenever possible.  We enjoyed everyday things along with studying.  Ted and Tom lived at the fraternity house, which was a great place for fun parties and meeting people.  We were having a wonderful time. Because of a heart murmur Ted had not been accepted in the Navy, so he enlisted in the Coast Guard Reserve.  He was sensitive about not being able to be in active service, but I admired him for serving as radio operator on week-ends at the Coast Guard Base in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The war was on everyone's mind and conversation centered around it constantly.  For me being in love, was so marvelous I had to pinch myself to believe all the good things that were happening in my life.  Ted and I felt certain everything would work out, so we planned our future and every detail of our lives together. 

    Ted's parents lived in New Jersey and he was anxious for me to meet them.  They were polite and pleasant at our first meeting, but I could tell they were not thrilled about our relationship.  They openly expressed caution about our being serious at such a young age. Ted was to receive his BS degree from Franklin Marshall College the following year, and I could tell they feared that any outside distraction from his studies could effect his career. 

    Returning to Lancaster, Ted and I continued our plans-unconcerned about anyone but ourselves.  Ted gave me his fraternity pin at a holiday party at the house, and as we were dancing to our favorite record "I Can't Get Started With You," he asked me to marry him.  Without hesitating a moment I whispered, "Yes."  We kissed a long loving kiss and danced into the night.  Nothing could change the way we felt at that special moment.

    I had not been invited to Ted's parents home for the Christmas Holiday.  He said he would tell them of our engagement when they were alone.  When he returned from the visit it was clear to me they had objected to everything about our plans.  From what Ted described, it was quite a scene.  He told me his mother had been so upset and hysterical she had gone to bed with a blinding headache.  Being a quiet reserved German American, his father had lectured him. "I tell you; you will not get married.  You both are too young and haven't the slightest idea what marriage means."

    Ted was their only child and they had plans altogether different for his life after college graduation.  He was expected to return home and become established in a career in his field as a chemist, before ever thinking of marriage.  They also had their idea of the type of girl he should marry when the time came.  They made it clear that they had worked very hard to send him to college and his life would be ruined if he upset their plan.  Also, my background didn't meet their expectations, though I was of the same ethnic parentage and religion. 

    In spite of repeated objections by his parents, Ted didn't waiver in his determination to follow through with our plans.  His grades had improved since we were studying together and he said he felt more independent away from his parents. Before his graduation that Spring we were married in the College Chapel, with Mim and Tom as our attendants.  We celebrated at a small reception at the fraternity house with a few friends wishing us well.  

    At that time, rapid changes were taking place concerning the war in Europe.  There were rumors about agreements between the Allies and Russia to defeat Hitler and to end the war in 1945. My brother Peter was serving in the Pacific and the most I heard about him was from Mother when she sent meat ration coupons in exchange for sugar coupons that I sent her.  Ted and I were not seriously effected by the war as most people around us. Ted worked part-time in the chemical laboratory of Armstrong Linoleum plant near the college. He was also continuing his Coast Guard Reserve duties. With both of us working we did well financially and were happy to be together.

    Our apartment, a modest, but attractive cozy two rooms and bath, became a popular gathering place for friends. The kitchen had a two burner gas plate set on a small dish cupboard in the hall.  The small bathroom was the only source of water, but we were fortunate to have gotten the place during the shortage of apartments.  At the time, every extra room in Lancaster was rented to workers who were involved with the war effort.  Our rooms were on the third floor of a family mansion located on a shady street near the college.  Our landlady was a widow whose only son was also in the service.  Ted and I helped Mrs. Winters with everyday chores around the house and shopping at the Farmers Market, which was a wonderful place stocked with fresh vegetables and bakery goods from the local Amish farms.     Mrs Winters didn't mind the students coming to our apartment. Our small sitting room was always filled with friends from school.  Many of the men were studying at Franklin Marshall Seminary and their discussions on theology and philosophy were lively and heated.

    Mim was of Mennonite background and she was eager to learn all she could to prepare herself as a wife to a minister of the Protestant Reformed Church.  Tom was to be ordained after graduation from the Seminary that Spring.  Tom and Mim planned to be married before leaving Lancaster as Tom had accepted a position as Pastor in a church near his family home in Maryland. I found my extensive background in Bible study qualified me as a sounding board for Mim and the others.

    Ted and I mainly agreed about religious dogma-as we called.  We felt that different perceptions of God and the adoption of rituals set religions apart and were a main source of prejudice among people.  I felt comfortable with all beliefs and being able to expand my mind and explore my own faith. I felt that God, my creator would not be offended by any question I might ask to increase my understanding. 

    One evening following a lively discussion, after everyone had left and Ted had gone to bed, I sat back in our easy chair and closed my eyes.  I needed to relax before trying to sleep.  It was a few days after the death of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, on April 12, 1945.  We had been discussing his death and our concerns about the effects our President's death would have on the outcome of the war.  We all admired the President for many of his accomplishments, but we did have differing opinions about some of the decisions that were being made involving the United States and our position in the war. It was on this night as I closed my eyes, that I had the most unusual and startling experience.  A clear distinct image, bright in the most amazing color appeared in my mind's eye.  There was not a shadow of a doubt that the image was of President Franklin D. Roosevelt.  He was not sitting in a wheelchair as we were accustomed to seeing him, but standing upright with one hand resting on his desk.  The entire office at his home in Hyde Park was visible in bright color and the furnishings were distinct down to the last detail.  The image was so vivid and real that I jumped out of the chair, shook my head and opened my eyes to make certain I was not dreaming.  This was no dream!  I was stunned shocked and dumbfounded.  It was seconds before I could close my eyes to see if the image would reappear.  It didn't.  Although I was not afraid, my entire body quivered and trembled for several minutes.  It took me hours to get to sleep.

    The incident was so mind shattering that I was unable to shake the effect for days.  I tried to explain the whole episode to Ted.  He was aware of my vivid imagination and that I dreamed in color, but he dismissed it as my reaction to the discussion of the President's death. The only friend who gave any credibility to my suggestion that this could be a spiritual experience was Pat, a seminary student.  Pat had a special interest in the arts, especially the theatre and we had enjoyed many discussions on drama, the arts and religion.  However, Pat did not wish to pursue any aspect of my experience beyond his comment, "Haven't we all said anything is possible."

    I didn't know anyone outside our group to confide in about the experience.  The entire group agreed with Ted, that I should put a harness on my imagination, so I didn't pursue the subject with any of them again. The image of President Roosevelt appeared several times during the next few months and left an indelible imprint in my memory down to the last detail.     I carried with me the possibility that departed souls could transmit their image back from beyond into this earthly realm.  I felt certain there must be those souls on earth who were receptive and could receive messages from these images.  I was not so certain I was one of those souls open enough to receive a message and I didn't have the slightest idea what to do if I did receive one.  If my friends thought I was a bit balmy, who would believe me anyway?