Angel of Auschwitz

by Tarra Light

  “Speaking the Truth, I manifest God’s Word.

  “Living the Truth, I am free.”

  The Whipping

  BY CONSCIOUS CHOICE I had disobeyed the orders of the Gestapo. Commandant Schuller believed that he had no choice, that he had to comply with the dictates of his superiors. His bible was written by an iron hand.

  My punishment was intended to break my will. Commandant Schuller had given the order: torture by whipping.

  Sergeant Streiker was eager to begin. He held his whip stretched out between his hands, impregnating it with the power of evil. He spat at my feet with disdain. I stood for the Truth, enemy number one of the forces of Darkness. I stood for freedom, trusting in God for my salvation. Truth and freedom walk hand in hand.

  Like a mad showman at a circus, he whisked his whip around and around, whistling all the while. He circled it around and cracked it up and down. He gave his performance with stunning agility. Using clever maneuvers he tried to terrorize me, provoke me, and break me down. He cracked a big grin as he played his game of intimidation. The whip was an angry viper dancing to the tune he whistled. It hissed like a snake preparing to strike. But I knew the venom of evil cannot poison the hearts of God’s servants.

  “Recant or die!” he spat again, threatening me. As he cracked the whip above my head, the tail caught a bunch of my hair and yanked it from my scalp.

  “Repeat these words:

  “The state is God.

  “I swear allegiance to the Reich.

  “I submit to authority.”

  “Never!” I shouted back. “I will never betray my vows to God. I will die first before I tell a lie.”

  Thus began hours of torture. When it was over, I collapsed onto the ground. My back was bleeding, burning with raw pain. My soul departed on a journey to meet my Maker. By God’s grace, my crow allies arrived in the nick of time. They dropped pink rosebuds over my heart to revive my broken body. Then came the angels of mercy, who retrieved my soul and returned it to my temple of flesh. It was not my time to go. I still had unfinished business. My debates with the Commandant were not yet complete.

  Debates with the Commandant

  My Last Chance

  TWO GUARDS GRABBED ME and dragged me to Commandant Schuller’s office. I walked into the room with my head bowed, expecting the most severe punishment to be meted out. The air in his office seemed oppressive. I felt an impending sense of doom. This time, there was no tray of chocolates, no schnapps. This time, there was no banter of ideas and philosophies, no mental gymnastics. This time was the last time.

  “I offer you the bargain of your life,” he said, trying to persuade me. “Pledge your allegiance to the state. Obey my orders. Then you will be saved. Then you will be rewarded. You will be treated preferentially and receive more food, even scraps of meat. Your life will be much easier when you submit your will to the authority of the Reich. What do you say, Natasza?”

  I felt a rush of adrenalin. Then I stood up straight and tall. Claiming my power, I drew the Sword of Truth and pointed it directly at him. “I will not make a deal with you. I will not bargain with the Truth.”

  “This is an ultimatum,” he retorted. “Speak the truth and die, or lie to save your life.”

  I knew my words would seal my fate. All fear left me. I was standing in the Truth. “I am married to the Truth,” I answered him. “Not even death can separate us.” Daggers of light shot out of my eyes. Sparks of blue fire flew out of my mouth as I dared to speak the truth.

  “Brave words fly like sparks from the mouth of a child,” he said, commending me. To my surprise he got up from his desk, clicked his heels, and saluted me. “I admire you for your bravery, rebel child, but I am not free to let you go. I have a job to do. I am obligated to follow orders.”

  In spite of his power, the Commandant of Auschwitz was not free. He had surrendered his power of choice. Even the Führer was a prisoner of his own madness and fanaticism. “I order you to death by firing squad. You are dismissed.”

  PART SEVEN

  My Destiny

  My Destiny

  WALKING OUT THE DOOR of command headquarters, I squinted in the bright light of day. I struggled to focus my vision on reality. How many more days will I live on this Earth? I wondered.

  “Do not grieve over your fate, my child,” I heard telepathically. As I made my way along the hard and dusty road, I sensed an astral presence close at hand.

  “Oh, dear Boris, welcome friend!” I exclaimed.

  “This is not your first life. It is not your last. You have lived and died a thousand times,” explained the professor.

  “Do you mean I will live again to see the sun and the rain, to cry and love and dance for joy?”

  “Yes, child. That is your destiny, and so it shall be. Realize that the memory of this life is imprinted on your soul. You will be born again, to Jewish parents in the United States, before this war is over. When you awaken to your innate divinity, you will write the true story of your life, to tell the world what you have learned. The act of writing will heal your emotions. It will purge you of dark residues from the core of your being. The process of reading will heal the races and nations of the world from prejudice and intolerance. No longer will they be able to justify vengeance and retaliation.

  “You will live on in the hearts of millions. A time will come when the peoples of the Earth shed the false cloak of racial identity. Each person will recognize the God within.”

  Meesha

  AS I STRETCHED OUT my arms to change my blouse, I felt an unusual tenderness in my breasts. I decided to confide in Old Mother. I could talk freely with her about intimate subjects. The heart of my dear mother, Nadia, would be gladdened to know of my trust in this wise and caring woman.

  “My body is changing, Old Mother. I don’t understand why.”

  “You are with child, Natasza. A new life is growing within you.”

  How could this be? I wondered in amazement. I am sentenced to death, and at the same time I find out that I am pregnant. I remembered the fate of Klara’s baby. Better that the child die in my womb than be served as dinner to Commandant Schuller.

  Then I saw a sphere of light and felt a presence that moved me to tears. “I am Meesha, spirit of your unborn child.” In my mind the words rang like temple bells. “I come to accompany you in your last moments. I shall be with you during your time of passing. Do not fear. The love of God is with you always. The mercy of God is everlasting.”

  Confession

  TIME WAS SHORT. I had to set my life in order. I had answered the call and had lived my life for God. He was calling me Home. Taking a stubby pencil from my coat pocket, I began to compose a letter. I wanted to tell Captain Otto of my secret feelings for him:

  Dear Captain,

  This message to you is my last. I am sentenced to death by execution. It will be soon; the exact moment I know not.

  Every thought, every feeling stands out in relief against the backdrop of eternity. Love and life, fear and death—what is the meaning of it all?

  Now I must confess the depth of my feelings for you. Due to our silence, my love was unspeakable. Because of our circumstances, my love is inexplicable. I am with child; your child. Like your wife I will carry the unborn to my grave. May you marry again and beget children of love who will heal the wounds of war.

  Very truly yours,

  Natasza

  I gave my letter to Boris. He delivered it to the captain’s quarters, placing it on the little table by the window. It sat next to the porcelain teapot, where we had spoken with our eyes in the silence of communion.

  Blessings

  DEATH WAS IMMINENT. I was terrified. I am only sixteen years old, I thought. Surely I am too young to die. The child in my womb is a promise yet unborn.

  I cried dry tears and prayed and prayed. I felt torn apart. My soul longed for freedom, yet my psyche clung to life. Like a ray of hope, a single shaft of light shone through the dusty window and touched my bleed
ing heart.

  Soft footsteps approached. Aniela came to my bedside, her bright eyes shining with compassion. Klara, the comforter, followed behind her, limping lightly on her twisted foot. Next I saw Gretta, the fearless moralist. Lastly came Old Mother, standing in the shadows.

  “Arise, Natasza. Wash away your sea of sorrow,” said Aniela. “We have come to pray for the liberation of your soul.” Interlocking their hands, the sisters of mercy formed a circle of love around me.

  “We thank you, Natasza, for your dedication to your healing mission,” said Klara. “To us you are soul sister and friend, teacher and healer. The kingdom of heaven awaits you. Soon you shall behold the glory of God. Blessings to you, Angel of Auschwitz.”

  Betrayal

  MY PSYCHE BECAME A battleground of two opposing armies of thought. The battle line was drawn: for life on one side, for death on the other. The raging inner warfare tore me apart. Thoughts arising from my death wish were born of anguish and despair. They argued:

  Life is too painful.

  I cannot go on.

  I’m exhausted.

  I’ve done my part.

  I must escape this horror.

  My thoughts for life were born of hope and expectancy. They argued:

  I am too young to die.

  My unborn baby deserves a chance.

  My people need me.

  I must hold on until the Day of Liberation.

  I long to reunite with my family.

  I seesawed back and forth between hope for the future and anger at the past. My anger took control of me. I was determined to confront Boris and tell him off.

  “You betrayed me!” I yelled at him. “You violated our agreement. You promised to protect me. I depended on you, and you failed me. You knew my shields were weakening. You knew! You should have intervened to save me from capture.”

  “Calm yourself, child,” he spoke softly. “Take a few deep breaths. Now listen. Realize that you betrayed yourself. You prayed for deliverance. Your deliverance is death. You set it up that way.”

  “Well, now I have changed my mind,” I argued.

  “Talk to God about your decision. It is between you and Him. I cannot interfere. For you, death is the ultimate healer. Soon you shall be free. Rejoice.”

  Last Walk

  THE GIRLS OF OUR sisterhood gathered once more to honor Aniela. My healing assistant had graduated to become the new leader of our team of healers. Confident in her ability to carry on the mission, I felt relieved that she was finally prepared to take my place. Each girl pledged anew her commitment to God and humanity, to abide by the Healer’s Code, to give of herself in selfless service. After a simple ceremony, the sisters of mercy gathered around me to express their heartfelt good-byes. I was surrounded with love and embraced by those most dear to my heart.

  Suddenly, two iron men walked into our barracks and broke apart our tender farewell party. They yanked me from the loving arms of my soul sisters and shoved me out the door. “Get going, Jew girl!” they snarled to hurry me along. Like rabid dogs biting at my feet, they kicked me and prodded me with their rifle butts.

  Just in time, Boris appeared at my side. “I have never been so glad to see you!” I exclaimed. “I forgive you.” He projected the blue ray of peace into my energy field and my anxiety subsided. “This is the end of me. God help me!” I implored. For the last time, we prayed together. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me. Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me.…” Even the guards appeared tranquilized as the power of prayer touched their iron hearts. They slowed down their pace and seemed calmer.

  “I am proud of you, Natasza,” said my mentor. “For years you have survived adversity. Your strength of will and faith kept you going. I have watched you grow up from a shy and awkward girl into a strong and commanding young woman. You have wielded the Sword of Truth at the risk of your own life. Bravo!”

  “I answered the call of my heart,” was my simple reply.

  “Your achievements are much greater than you realize.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “Listen.”

  I heard the sound of boots crunching the ice on the frozen ground. I heard the calls of a flock of crows flying overhead. I heard a chorus of a thousand muffled voices whispering my name: “Natasza. Natasza, we love you.” I could not see who was calling me. I did not know who they were or where they were.

  “Now is the time for the full truth to be revealed to you,” explained my spirit guardian. “Thousands of lost souls saw your light like a beacon in the night and attached themselves to you. Through your grace, they hope for their own salvation. You are the Atlas of Auschwitz, carrying thousands of souls on your shoulders. That is why you are so weary. I was not permitted to tell you this until your last moments. It takes a great soul to carry the weight of the multitudes. You would not have believed yourself capable of this noble task. Your doubt would have undone you.”

  Firing Squad

  IT WAS A DREARY day in winter. The phantom sun sat on the edge of the sky, sending light to the fainthearted. The sun god Ra rose from his golden throne and saluted me, in honor of the Torch of Light I had carried for the world.

  The two iron men were joined by another five. They led me to an open field reserved for executions. I walked barefoot on the frozen ground. It felt like I was walking in slow motion, in time and out of time. A squadron of angry crows assailed the guards, screaming:

  “No more war.

  “Stop the bloodshed.

  “Lay down your arms.”

  The iron men were irritated by the noisy crows. My executioners were restless and anxious, breathing animosity. They stared at me with their eyes of evil. I looked down at the ground to protect myself from their darkness. Mother Earth heard the call of my heart and embraced me with her loving arms. “Fear not, child of Light. Love is here,” said the Earth.

  Grateful to be blindfolded, I surveyed the scene with my inner sight. Many hundreds of guests had gathered to watch the final act in the story of my life. Boris, of course, was at my side. Then the spirits of Jezra, Uncle Jacob, and Meesha appeared. Angels and spiritual masters revealed themselves to me. The spirits of comrades arrived—those whom I had ministered to—the ones I had loved and lost. I began to pray, remembering a psalm of David:

  “God is my refuge and my salvation.

  “I shall not fear, though the Earth be moved

  “And the mountains carried into the midst of the sea.”

  Seven shots rang out. I collapsed and fell to the ground. It took a long time to die as I slowly bled to death. The pain was more than I could bear, and I lost consciousness. Death was my final liberation.

  The Angel of Death

  MY SOUL SOARED HEAVENWARD, free at last. Seeing with the eyes of my spirit, I looked down at the fallen body of a young woman, lying on the frozen ground. She lay curled up in fetal position, bleeding profusely, a pool of blood collecting around her body. Her abdomen was ripped open—a brutal violation. A pair of black crows landed by her side. With tender care, they rearranged her hair, strand by strand, pulling it out of her eyes and away from her face.

  A bright light appeared before me and turned into a magnificent angel.

  “Who are you?” I dared to ask as I looked at him with awe.

  “I am the Angel of Death,” he introduced himself. “My purpose is to free the soul from bondage to the flesh. The moment of death is the birth of spiritual life. Now you shall know the truth of who you are.”

  The Golden Prince

  I WAS SWEPT ALONG BY a celestial wind that carried me to the gates of a heavenly temple. The bells of the temple rang out, and the gates swung open. In the courtyard of the temple grew a flourishing garden. At the center of the garden was a fountain of love that watered all the flowers. White doves of peace fluttered over the fountain and drank of its holy waters. Next to the fountain stood a humble Gardener. A crown of glory sat upon His head, shi
ning like the sun. The robe He wore was of a golden hue. His radiance was cobalt blue.

  The Gardener came to greet me and handed me a rose. I placed the rose over my heart and looked into His gentle eyes. From the sacred heart of His being, divine love issued forth in waves. In awe of the majesty of love, I fell to my knees weeping. It was love so powerful, so sweet, I never imagined it could be so. From the depths of my soul, torrents of tears streamed forth, cleansing my psyche of wounds from the past, preparing me for new life.

  Returning to my feet, I spoke to the Golden Prince, “Please, Master,” I beseeched Him, “Return to Earth to save the world from evil. Millions suffer and die in a horrific tragedy. God must intervene to stop the Holocaust.”

  The Prince answered, “I have come to light the lamp of love in the temple of your heart. Evil can gain no foothold in a heart graced by love. Love is the savior of the world.”

  Rise Above

  SWEPT ALONG BY THE celestial wind, I was taken on a journey through time. As I looked down below me, I viewed memories from my childhood, like watching a movie of my life. I saw a scene with a farmhouse and snow-covered hills. Children were laughing and sledding down the steep slopes.

  The winds of time abated, and I was dropped into the scene. I landed on my knees at the roots of a tall lonesome pine. Rising to my feet, I heard the flapping of wings and saw a great bird land on the pinnacle of the tree. I remembered the hawk that foretold my future that fateful day of destiny when I discovered my gift of healing.

  “People of Earth,” spoke the Spirit Bird, “claim your power. Rise above. Rise above.”