A Day at an Edmonton Cemetery

Mount Pleasant Cemetery

The day was overcast with intermittent sun. My granddaughter Holly sat in the back seat, all nine and a half years of her. I stopped by to pick up Kirsten and her two year old, Emmy. Emmy and Kirsten were sitting on cement steps outside their townhouse. Greetings and smiles all around as Kirsten belted Emmy into her car seat and then Kirsten climbed into the front seat.

Mount Pleasant is located in an older, larger treed neighbourhood. The graveyard begins across the street from the ending of Mount Pleasant elementary School and near the end of the houses on the cemetery side.

I drove in the closest entrance to 51 Avenue. There was definitely a heavy serious feeling in the air. The road meandered around, small hills blocking out the houses. Trees dotted the graveyard. I finally stopped beside a little hill. All of us debarked and headed for the sites on the passenger side. The small gravestones near the road belonged to young children and newborns from over fifty years ago. Some dated to the 1800 hundreds.

Emmy and Holly ran around. Holly read dates and ages, while Emmy sat or walked in between tight fitting, back to back headstones. On this grey, windy, August day, I began to see children playing, 4 or 5 year olds, laughing and watching us. These children gathered together because of their own funerals many years ago. The clothing, from what I remember, seemed as if from the forties or fifties.

The energy in the air was definitely heavier despite being open air. In closed places, energy from traumatic events can become trapped, but I expected the graveyard to be lighter than it was. Thousands of funerals had gone through this old graveyard, with thousands of people mourning, crying, depressed etc. I can understand the heaviness now.

When Kirsten and I were standing at the top of the hill in the middle of the graves, I began to see a woman, dark haired, sporting a tight sweater, a poodle skirt (without the poodle picture) and a wide belt come towards us. She dressed like she was straight out of the fifties. Then she faded away. I don’t know whether she died in the fifties or whether the fifties had been the part of her life she had liked the best. Many spirits, if they died when they were older, often appear much younger when they allow themselves to be seen. They go back to that part of their lives when they were healthy and happy.

My granddaughter said she saw children playing across the other side of the road (spirit children of course). That was it other than the fact that there were so many Margarets on the gravestones. That is my given name, one which my mother always calls me.

The Ringing Cedar Series

Anastasia. What a person! My Dad used to say that an individual only uses about 10% of her his brain----if!. I always thought that if we could tap our psychic powers and develop, those powers could increase. I felt that through yoga. Anastasia is just that woman. She uses so much more brain, heart and spiritual power. We are supposed to be like her--- good, kind, compassionate, loving. That makes her so powerful. We can be just as powerfully good, loving and compassionate by operating from our hearts.

The feeling of magic and mysticism overcame me while I read the books; each book more powerful than the last.

The Ringing Cedar Series are just what the world needs.



Maggie