Nanci Psychic


Jesus on the stair case
To lead, a lil' bit into this short memory, I want to share a bit about my gramma. She came to America, from Italy, when she was 17 to marry my grampa who was, then, 21.
They had been writing through letters for a few years and when my gramma came over, on the boat, she brought her father with her (or he insisted on coming), who remained for two years, to make sure grampa was going to be a suitable husband for his daughter. And he was! Grampa worked hard, handpainting vehicles for Ford company. He had a magic touch for gardens (as did my father and, does,my brother Terry). I heard he used to basket up his veggies and walk around the neighborhood sharing them with those in need. He was born on X mas and was given the name "Natale", which means "Christmas", in Italian. I heard some called him "little Jesus" because of his kind heart and soft gentle ways. Gramma used to, always, have candy and gum in her pockets and Iremember we would all run up to her to see what suprise she had for us that day. She had pictures of Jesus, Joseph and Mary up on her wall and it was the first thing you saw above the kitchen door as you walked in their house. She had 5 boys and one girl and I heard she used to light candles for 3 of her sons (my uncles) while they were all away at war, so she could pray for them, daily.

She watched the candles and if they flickered, she, somehow, knew one of them was in danger (which turned out to be true , yet, that is another story) and would pray even more intently or say a novena. I just realized as I was writing this; Wow, gramma loved Jesus and was devoted to him, yet, still read tea leaves as it was something handed down to her and practiced from her mothers mothers. She used to have me sip tea as she would giggle and smile. She was so tiny..a tiny light haired blue eyed italian lady..round and huggable and cuddly. I rememebr she would look at my tea leaves and always say something about "you have beautiful angels". I am questioned sometimes how I can love Jesus and still work as a "psychic", yet, my wonderful gramma did , so,thats my answer. I am like my gramma..and that feels so right!

Psychic Blog

one of my brothers (the tomato king) and my son when he was little


So back to Jesus on the staircase. At 3-4 years old I knew Jesus was a special loving being..he sat up high, above the place where the family gathered, with Mary on one side and Joseph on the other. The picture always greeted me when I walked into my grandparents home. My gramma used to say something about "talk to him and he keeps you safe, he loves you".
One day while my mom was talking with a freind in the kitchen in our family home in Detroit, MI, I awkwardly skated into the kitchen with my first pair of kids skates. The kind that fit over your shoes and do not roll very easily. Like many children who want their mothers attention when she tired to take a little time out, I continued to roll around the kitchen and inched my way closer and closer to the stairs that led to the basement.

I remember my mom continued to say things to me about staying away from the stairs, yet, it seemed as soon as she said it..i forgot it until she reminded me again. My brain still works this way! I cannot say it is age because , well, i was about 3-4 years old, hehe. Then is happend..I got too close to the steep stairs and my feet flipped out from under me. Somehow, I fell down 3 stairs, rolled sideways and fell down the other 9-10 stairs down to a hard basement floor. I rememebr my mom saying "nanci!". The next thing I remember is what my gramma told me about talking to Jesus and how he helps you and loves you". In a split second I saw that and suddenly I saw Jesus walk out of that picture at my grammas house and catch me and softly lay me down on the basement floor. Mary and Joseph remained by his side and smiled. I remember a warm light and love that will stay with me forever. The next thing i knew I was upstairs in the kitchen with my mom. I rememer clinging to her and her saying something about not believing I wasn't hurt after that terrible fall. I remember at what I just experienced and wanted her to make sense of it. Somehow, it felt strange that big adults helped me, caught me, helped me, and my mom , was not aware of it. It seemd she should know, be aware, if someone else treated me with such love and care..didn't she see the man on Grammas wall catch me? She didn't see him set me down gently and see the warm light in our basement? At that young age, I had a realization that there was something bigger than mom and dad and my familiar home and family. After tugging on my mom's shirt for awhile..wanting to tell her something about it as I somehow wanted to think she saw it, was aware of it..was the one who made it happen..she said "what..what is it honey..I'm trying to talk?" I said "the man on grammas wall helped me."
She said something like "what honey.. I dont understand what you mean."
I think i said it , again, a few times until she realized i was talking about Jesus. The picture on grammas wall of the man she said loves me and will help me anytime. At one point she realized what I said because she broke out in a kind of "ohh!! awww she got tearry eyed and hugged me and said something like "gramma is right, he does love you! he loves all of us." I know she went on and on to her friend and was talking about what happend..suprised and touched. I knew my mom thought something special just happend ..I remember her saying something to my dad about it too. I wonder if she told gramma? I took my skates off and sat down to watch felix the cat. That was just the beginning of unusual somethings or little mericals I would share with my mom throughout my lifetime. It all began with Jesus on the staircase. Maybe it was my grammas prayers & I'de guess that she is still praying now.

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