A Promise is a Promise

by Wayne W. Dyer

Irish visionary and stigmatist, Monday, November 29, 1993

  Edwarda O’Bara and her mother, Kaye, are profoundly spiritual people. Edwarda always wanted to know more about the Blessed Virgin Mary. The idea of the Blessed Mother providing guidance and light both for individuals and to an increasingly darkening world, mesmerized Edwarda.

  As Kaye described earlier, Edwarda was constantly reading about the saints and the Blessed Mother, carrying books with her everywhere. Often she’d be seen avidly reading in her bedroom, and then she’d excitedly talk to Colleen and her mother about these saints who lived in the time of Christ. It was as if Edwarda felt that by learning more and more about the Blessed Mother and many of the female saints, she would be able to commune directly with them.

  For Edwarda, this was very important business. She regarded her spiritual world very seriously, and she viewed the lives of the saints with reverence. She never seemed to feel that the spiritual life was being imposed on her.

  Religion and spirituality are a central theme in this amazing story for both Kaye and Edwarda. This attitude is apparent in the following statement that Kaye made in a national religious publication:

  When you get married, you dedicate your marriage to something. Ours was dedicated to the Holy Family. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not classifying myself with them. But we tried to pattern our life after the Holy Family. Every time I get down, I remind myself that Mary would never give in. I don’t think I am exceptional.

  While Kaye dedicated her marriage to the Holy Family, young Edwarda worshiped the Blessed Mother and St. Anne. She did not preach to or judge others who did not revere these saints in the way she did. In fact, she would not even comment on disbelievers. Edwarda simply had an internal knowing for herself about the importance of these entities and how they could be relied upon in times of trouble.

  I am certain that she received a great deal of her spiritual influence from her parents and her schooling, but I do not believe it is possible to inject this kind of an attitude into anyone who is not called on to receive it. Exposure is one thing, but making an internal commitment and living that commitment every day is quite another matter. Edwarda seemed to have a spiritual calling.

  She was admitted to the first class at the University of Notre Dame that allowed females to register. She was excited about being accepted and looked forward to studying at such a sacred school as Notre Dame, particularly since she would be in the very first class that admitted young women. For her, this was a divine message from the Holy Family, and she felt that her life would be tremendously enriched by attending that fine institution.

  But Edwarda’s life took a different turn. No one could have predicted that she would slip into a comatose state for over 26 years. She was a mild diabetic, but nobody, including her medical caretakers, foresaw an occurrence of that magnitude.

  What happened to Edwarda has never challenged Kaye’s faith. When an interviewer with The National Catholic Register asked her about the redemptive value of suffering, which the Pope has written about, her response was:

  It may sound strange, but I don’t feel I suffered. I still have Edwarda. But I do hope, because God is good, that there will be a resolution. You know, people don’t realize how important human life is, what a precious gift God gives us. Life is so cheap to so many people. I wish everyone could see Edwarda and realize how important life is—how she is a fighter and how we’ve hung on to it. And the only way we could do it was with God as our partner…she has suffered three cardiac arrests, pneumonia, a collapsed kidney and lung. She was not expected to last a month….”

  Edwarda is a miracle woman who survives, and who has gone from a deep coma to a state that is like coming out of a deep sleep where she can hear people around her, but can’t break through.

  Edwarda’s room is decorated with pictures and objects that reflect the spiritual awareness that I have described. There are pictures of Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary, medals, relics, statuettes, and healing lights. An Infant of Prague statue sits on the window sill above Edwarda’s bed. During World War I, a nun kept 350 names of soldiers under the statue. Every single one came home safely. Edwarda’s name has been at the statue’s feet for over 25 years. The Bible is next to her bed, and she receives Holy Communion through the catheter that feeds her. Regular masses and prayers are said for her in her room, also.

  The Blessed Mother occupies the place of greatest distinction. I ask you to suspend disbelief as you read about the entrance of the Blessed Mother into this story. You will read about Mary explaining to Kaye that Edwarda’s comatose state is a part of the choice that Edwarda made as a young girl to fulfill her own spiritual destiny. Edwarda’s silence and immobility befuddle our intellect, but I think you will agree, as you read the Blessed Mother’s explanation, that there is a God force present that resonates perfectly with our spirits.

  After 22 years of caring for her daughter, Kaye was accustomed to walking into Edwarda’s bedroom from the kitchen, where she prepared food every two hours. In the fall of 1992, she was astounded by what she encountered. Here is Kaye’s description of what happened:

  I leave the small light on in her bedroom, and I leave the television on so that there’s a light so I don’t trip when I go in with food. I noticed when I started up the hall that the light was off. And I thought, Oh, darn, the bulb blew.

  Well, when I stepped into the room, I looked, and the television was not on, but there was such bright light in that room. I thought I surely wasn’t so sleepy that I turned the fluorescent lights on when I left. But what I saw wasn’t fluorescent. It was something standing by my door. And I thought someone got in the door, and they were going to hurt Edwarda. I couldn’t talk. All I saw was this person standing there.

  I asked Kaye what the person looked like.

  At that time, I couldn’t figure out what it looked like. All I saw was—well, I was so startled and so scared because we’d been robbed so many times, and I thought someone had gotten in here. I sat on the chair and just looked at it. Then it said something, and I asked who it was. I didn’t say another word. I didn’t know how long I sat there. I thought it was hours. It was Edwarda’s 4:00 A.M. feeding, and when I looked at the clock after she left, it was ten after 4:00. The person had been standing there for ten minutes, and I still couldn’t talk. I was scared.

  Questions tumbled from my lips. “Was there a light? Did you feel an energy in the room? Did you feel peaceful, or did you feel thoroughly frightened?” I asked all at once.

  Kaye replied, “I didn’t feel anything. I was so scared.”

  “Were you shaking?”

  “I was shaking. I just put my hands on Edwarda so no one could take her,” Kaye added.

  “And where was this entity?” I asked.

  “Right by my glass doors, right as you come in.”

  “Not by Edwarda?”

  Kaye shook her head. “No, not by Edwarda. At the bottom of the bed, not the top. And it really scared me, and so I just sat there, but then I was going to hand her the food I had brought in, but the food was cold, so I got more. I thought maybe I was hallucinating, or maybe I’m crazy, or maybe I’m just dreaming. So I got her back to sleep. I fed her and just sat there holding her and watching the door so no one would come in or out.

  “The next night when I came for her midnight feeding, the light was still on, and the TV was on, but you couldn’t hear it. And here at the bed was this figure again.”

  “Did it have substance?” I asked. “Arms? Legs?” I really wanted to know.

  “It had. It was standing. It looked like…exactly like the Sacred Heart of Mary picture I have. She said, ‘Are you still scared?’ I told her not as much. She told me not to be afraid of her, and I wasn’t.”

  Kaye related more of the experience:

  When I asked her who she was, she wouldn’t say. I asked her if she was an angel, and she smiled. I thought, Well, the guardian angel come down. When Edwarda was a kid, I used to tell her to move around and make ro
om for her guardian angel. (I still move over so there’s room when I get in the car.)

  She smiled and said, “This is a blessed child.” When I agreed that Edwarda was blessed, she said, “No, this is a blessed child; she isn’t just blessed.” When I asked her what the difference was, she said, “She is a victim soul.” I didn’t know what that was and wanted to know if it was bad, and she said, “Oh, no, I never give bad tidings.” I told her that I didn’t think she would and that I don’t let bad tidings come into Edwarda’s room. She smiled, and I asked her how I could find out what a victim soul was. She told me to ask in the right places, and I would find out.

  She was holding Edwarda’s forehead and invited me to pray with her. She wanted to know what my favorite prayer is, and I said it was the rosary. We said the complete rosary—she said the first half, and I said the second half, like a priest does. Then I begged her to tell me what a victim soul was because I felt so worried that I wouldn’t be able to find out, and she said, “I’m not going to tell you. It will do you well to find out. Do not worry; it is not bad.”

  The next morning, Kaye began calling to find out the meaning of a victim soul.

  I called several priests. I called ministers, too. I had two ministers in here an awful lot, but they didn’t know, so I called a cardinal that I had been in contact with before, and he wanted to know who told me about victim souls. When I told him that something told me in my home, he wanted to know what I meant. I told him I didn’t know, but I thought it was an angel, but I was hearing its voice and seeing something with my eyes.

  He started to laugh over the phone, and then he said, “It goes back to when there were martyrs.” He said that some martyrs were called victim souls because when they had been asked if they would suffer, they had agreed to. He said he was puzzled because this was an obscure term that few have heard or used in modern times, and he wondered who had told me. The cardinal said that it could have only come from someone who had been present at the time.

  In doing my research, I found that a victim soul is a special kind of martyr. They are known in the Bible to have been asked by God to willingly suffer in order to revive His word in the hearts of His people. The important thing here is the idea that they have been asked. Taking on the role of victim soul is a choice that someone is given. The person has the right to refuse without incurring any wrath or punishment. Knowing what we do about Edwarda, it is hard to imagine her refusing.

  Kaye continued describing what happened next:

  Two days later, the Blessed Mother came back and asked me if I had found out what a victim soul was. I told her what I had found out and that I didn’t know if it was correct. I then told her what I had learned from the cardinal, and she said, “Yes, that’s right.”

  I wanted to know what would happen if a person said no, and she explained that they would go on with their everyday mortal life, still working as they normally would do. So then I asked if Edwarda actually knew this and knew that she could say no. The Blessed Mother said, “Oh, everyone knows they can say no. That’s in their heart.” I then asked her to please tell me what Edwarda was suffering for, because I thought maybe I could hurry it up.

  She said, “You can’t hurry it up. She’s suffering for it.” I told her that I could take some of my daughter’s suffering, but she told me that I was not dead and could not suffer for her.

  “Did she talk out loud?” I asked Kaye.

  “Yes, she did. Her voice is melodic, soft, not loud.”

  At one point, Kaye pleaded with the Blessed Mother to be allowed to take on some of Edwarda’s suffering. Kaye explained:

  I was really sick. My blood pressure was too high, and the Blessed Mother came to me and said, “You asked for it. Be careful what you pray for.” All during this time, I’d sit down on the chair and fall asleep, but Edwarda was resting more peacefully than I had ever seen her.

  During those six weeks, Edwarda did not suffer at all, but I couldn’t take it, and I couldn’t take care of her. I’d wake up, and my legs would not hold me. I stayed sick while Edwarda was peaceful.

  I asked Kaye, “How did Edwarda’s suffering stop, in what way, and how did you know?”

  “Well, she went to sleep,” Kaye explained. “She didn’t cough or fuss, and I just knew.”

  It was obvious that this was not something that Kaye could take on and survive. This was Edwarda’s choice to be a victim soul, according to what the Blessed Mother told Kaye, and no one could assume that burden.

  I asked Kaye how she could be certain that this apparition who appeared in Edwarda’s room was the Blessed Mother. Kaye related that she had asked repeatedly but could not get an answer. But something began happening that convinced her that this had to be the Blessed Mother. Kaye related:

  She started displaying two different colors. Even though I am color blind, I could see something was dark, and something was light. And she was so beautiful, and her voice was so nice that she either had to be the best angel in heaven or the Blessed Mother.

  One night, she said something about “My son, my son; you take care of this blessed one the way I cared for my son.” She never calls Edwarda my daughter. She always refers to her as “this blessed one.”

  I asked Kaye again about the idea of a victim soul making the choice to suffer. “When you asked the Blessed Mother about a victim soul, she encouraged you to find out for yourself. You then asked her how this decision is made. Mary told you that the victim soul knows or agrees to take on the burden. Do you know if it is a conscious decision?” I queried.

  “It is a conscious decision,” Kaye responded.

  “So Edwarda made a conscious decision?” I reiterated.

  “She made it before she got sick.”

  “Just before, you think?”

  “She made it right before she got sick.”

  I asked, “She never said anything to you about it?”

  “She must have made it when we went to the hospital because she made it right before she fell into a coma,” Kaye concluded.

  I couldn’t help asking, “From what you’ve since learned about a victim soul, does the victim come out of it, or do they die?”

  “It depends,” Kaye answered. “Sometimes when their suffering is over, they wake up. They have to work, to do something. I imagine victim souls took on this suffering until they freed the slaves.”

  “Did you ask the Blessed Mother what she meant when she said, ‘It has to be known’?”

  “Oh, yes,” Kaye replied. “Before you even came, I had asked her, and she said this has to be known. That’s why we were so happy when the Associated Press put it out, because it’s been all over the country in different papers, by many different people.”

  Kaye went on:

  But the Blessed Mother told me she would send a helper. Over the years, many people have come and said that they would do this or that, and then they would disappear. I think that’s because they can’t take the strain, or because they are afraid. If you only knew how many times over the past 26 years people have told me they were going to do this or that. Then you don’t see them.

  But then you came, and you said you would like to write a book and have the royalties paid to Edwarda’s Fund. You said to ask the Blessed Mother, because this could bring a great deal of publicity and people contacting me from all over the world. She appeared that night, and when I asked her, she said, “I told you I would send the right one. Yes, they are the right ones.” (You and your wife.) “They will know how to handle your situation, and they will do it in a delicate way.”

  She said not to be afraid. I called you right away and told you. I didn’t want to bother you, but it’s funny, I didn’t mind bothering you.

  (Marcelene and I both feel that it is our honor to be able to produce this book to “let it be known.” As we all strive to feel more compassion in our hearts, in some small way we are all a part of the story of Edwarda and Kaye.)

  I wondered if anyone else had seen the Blessed Mother an
d if Kaye can see her when she wants to.

  Kaye described an incident in response to my questions:

  She comes in only when she chooses to. But one time, my former neighbor, Mary Anne, came over after the Blessed Mother had visited the night before. Mary Anne asked me what kind of light I had in the room. She called it an arc light and said she wanted to get one for herself, after seeing it the night before. I told her that I didn’t have a light like she was describing. But she insisted she’d seen it the previous night. I asked her to come and show me, because I had no such light.

  Well, she came in and went to the very place where the Blessed Mother had been that night. There was no manmade light. She must have seen the halo-like light of the Blessed Mother.

  I asked Kaye to explain how she communicates with the Blessed Mother.

  “I’ve gotten over my awe of her,” Kaye said. “I still revere her, don’t get me wrong, but I talk to her as I would anyone. Others hear me talking, but don’t hear her answering.”

  “So you talk out loud?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah, out loud. One day Laurie and John were here, and we were praying. Suddenly they saw me stop praying and start talking to something. I had lost sight of all else when the Blessed Mother appeared. After I finished talking, I started praying where I had left off.”

  “When she comes to you, do you feel anything else?” I wondered.

  Kaye responded:

  It’s real calm like a nice cool breeze. One time, my friend Mary came and heard me talking. She didn’t hear anyone else, so she thought I was talking to Edwarda, and she came on into the room. She saw me intently holding a conversation, and she looked all around the room while I was conversing. For about 20 minutes, she said. She didn’t know what was going on. When I realized she [Mary] was there, I asked her how long she’d been there.

  She said she’d been there for a while and wanted to know who brought me roses. I said I didn’t have any roses in the house, but she insisted there was a strong fragrance of roses, and she went all over the house looking. [Kaye laughed.] She finally wanted to know what kind of carpet deodorizer I had. She wanted to get the same one.