August 28, 2014

CHAPTER  10

 

 

REC  #2    SANANDA

 

TUESDAY, APRIL 24, 1990   10:30 A.M.   YEAR 3 DAY 251

 

 

THE  BLACK  VEIL/SISTER  CHARLOTTE

 

 

Sananda in Radiance to continue with Sister Charlotte’s testimony.  Peace and blessings be upon ye ones.  I shall sit with you, Dharma, while we place this upon the pages that man might see and hear and understand.  Selah.

 

Sister Charlotte:

 

They came to me and sat me down before them.  The Mother Superior began to tell me how it would be.  She began by telling me that I would need to spill my blood just as Jesus did upon Calvary, I would need to be willing to do heavy, heavy penance, and I would have to live in cru­cial poverty.  Now I was already living in the pit of poverty but I thought that would make me holier and closer to God.  I thought it would make me a better nun so I was very willing to live in that poverty.

 

On that particular morning, she told me what I would be wearing.  She said I would spend nine hours in a casket and explained a num­ber of other things to me.  That was the most I knew about it, and I didn’t really find out anything until I had taken my “white” veil.

 

On this particular morning in point, I was 21 years of age.  But sixty days prior to my being 21 years of age, I would sign some pa­pers that were placed in front of me and those papers were this: I would sign away every bit of inheri­tance that I might have received from my family after their death.  Of course that was signed over to the Roman Catholic Church.  Of­ten times priests are enticing girls within the trap where the families have much property so that the Church will come into full inheritance of the child’s birthright.  I have rea­son to say to you that the salvation of your soul in the Catholic Church is going to cost you plenty of money.  More than you can possibly know anything about—they are eager to commercialize on the life of that child.

 

On this particular morning, I asked the Mother Superior to give me a little while to think it over.  No one forced me at this point and so I thought it over for a while and then one day I told her that I thought I would hide away be­hind the convent doors because I believed I could give more time to God; I could pray more and I would be in a better position to inflict more pain upon my body.  I had no way of knowing the latter would be well taken care of with­out my participation.  We are taught that God smiles down on us from heaven when we do penance, whatever the physical suffering might be, and the more the suffering the more the acceptance.

 

I didn’t know how it would be.  If you could only look into the hearts of little nuns, if you are a Christian you would immediately cry out before God in be­half of those little girls, because to themselves they are heathens.  It doesn’t make any difference as to the amount of educa­tion we might have—we are still heathens for we know nothing about this lovely Christ and nothing about any plan of salvation.  We, as nuns, are simply living our karma within the convent.

 

And so, on that particular morning, I come walking down the isle again.  Only on this day, I have no wedding garment on, I have a funeral shroud made of dark red velvet which falls to the floor.  As I walk down that isle I know what I am to do.  The casket is all prepared by the already clois­tered nuns and it is sitting right out front.  I knew that I would walk to the casket and climb within, lay my body down, and I would spend nine hours in there.  Two lit­tle nuns would come forth and cover me completely with a heavy black cloth we call a “heavy drape”, which is so in­censed that ones feels certain smothering to death.  I would have to stay there for the full nine hours or longer.  I knew that when I would come out of that casket, I would never leave the convent—ever again.  I knew I would never see my mother and father again—I would never go home again.  I would always live totally behind convent doors and when I would die, my body would be buried there.  They had told me that, so I knew it before the actual ceremony—but I had no way to comprehend a thing of such magnitude.

 

The worst and most terrible price to pay, however, was to open your eyes and realize that the convents are not religious orders as we were taught and we were trained.  It is a total disap­pointment to a young girl who has given her life to God and willing to give up ev­erything and sacrifice so much.  I can as­sure you that it was a heartbreaking and terrifying disappointment.

 

The nuns asked me what I thought of while in that casket.  I spilled every tear in my body.  I re­membered every lovely thing my mother had done for me; I remembered her voice and the gathering around the table.  I remembered the times when she would play with us and remem­bered the things she had said to me—even to what a marvelous cook she was.  I re­membered ev­erything as a little girl growing up in my parent’s home.  I remembered every­thing as I laid in that casket—knowing I would never again hear her voice or see her face.  I knew I would never sit to her table again or enjoy her presence or her food. 

 

I knew all those things so for some four hours I simply spilled all the tears in my body, be­cause it was so hard and I knew I would get homesick but I was giving it all for what I thought was the love of God.  I couldn’t know any bet­ter.  Those were nine horribly long, long hours.  Then I got a hold on myself and began to speak to my­self, “Now Charlotte, you will make the very best Carmelite nun, it will be the best thing you have ever done and you will give your best and you are willing to give everything you have.” 

 

I had given the best that I had up to this point and I would now be even better for I knew I must be the best that I could be.  The Mother Superior and Priests knew all about it also.  Now, I real­ized that after I would walk out of that casket, I would go back into the Mother Superior’s room.  I had never been allowed within that particular room so I had no idea what was inside.

When I walked in the room the Mother Superior requires I sit down in a high backed, hard bot­tomed chair.  Then I would immediately take three vows—of poverty, chastity and obedi­ence.  As I took those vows, she opened a little place on my earlobe and removed a portion of blood, be­cause every vow must be signed in my own blood.  After that, I would take the vow of poverty.  Now, when I signed that vow I would henceforth be willing to live in crucial poverty for the bal­ance of my life.  The next vow is of chastity.  You know, this vow repre­sents my marriage to Je­sus Christ and I would always remain a virgin and I would never marry another in this world.  Af­ter the Bishop married me to Christ he had placed a ring on my finger and that meant I was sealed to Christ.  I accepted it because I knew no better.  And now, here I was again, vowing to al­ways remain a virgin because I am the bride of Christ.

 

Please listen carefully for these things are so important to the things that I shall later share.  The last vow was of obedience.  I already felt I knew what obedience meant for I was al­ready living in a convent and absolute obedience is demanded.  You don’t escape with any show of disobedi­ence; not for even a moment.  You don’t get away with disobedience and you are made to real­ize what obedi­ence is and it is demanded and you know it.  The sooner you learn it the wiser you become in stemming the consequences of disobedi­ence.

WHAT  DO  THESE  VOWS  MEAN?

 

 

It means more than you folks will ever know because most people that I know anything about, know very little about obedience.  You may know something, but I promise you that you know nothing com­pared to that which a little nun knows about it.  Unless you have lived in a convent, you have no idea.

 

When I signed that particular vow in my own blood, it did something to me because after I signed those vows it meant I had signed away everything I had; my human rights were gone and I had become a me­chanical human being.  I can’t sit until told to do so, I can’t rise until they tell me to, I can’t lie down un­til they tell me to and neither do I dare get up.  I cannot eat until they tell me to, what I see—I don’t see, what I feel—I don’t feel; I have become a mechani­cal human being.  But you are not aware of it until you have signed all these vows.  Then you realize too late that there you are, a mechanical human being and you belong to Rome—totally to Rome.

 

 

AFTER  THE  VOWS—FORGOTTEN  WOMEN

 

 

Immediately after I have taken those vows, then the Mother Superior is going to take away my name and give me the name of a patron Saint.  And she teaches me to believe that what­ever hap­pens to me in the convent, I can take to that patron saint and she will intercede and get my prayers to God for I am not holy enough to stand in the presence of God.  It is no wonder that the dear little nuns never get close to God for we were always taught that we would never be holy enough to stand in His presence.  We always would have to go through someone else in or­der to get our prayers to God.  We be­lieve it because we don’t know any better.

 

Now, all identification of who “Charlotte” was is put away.  It would be taken away and if anyone should come to the convent and call for me in my family name, they would be told that there is no such person.  I no longer exist!

 

Next, the Mother Superior is going to cut every bit of hair off my head.  When she cuts it with the scissors she follows with the clippers.  There is nothing left—not one strand of hair left on my head.  Of course, if you could be a nun, you could understand that with the heavy head-gear we must wear that it would be so cumber­some to take care of it, that we don’t have any way to take care of hair in the convent.  There are no combs in the convent and you can see how hard it would be to tend a head of hair.  It is certainly not necessary to have a comb after they finish with your haircut.

 

Alright, this is my “black veil” and these are my vows.  I am there and I am going to stay there.

 

Up until this point I received a letter once a month from my fam­ily.  I could also write a let­ter to my family.  Even though I now realize that most of my writing would be marked out, because let­ters received from my family there was so much blacked out until there was no sense left to the letter.  Oh, I would weep over those black marks while I wondered what my mother was saying to me.  Well, I was informed that I would never know what they wanted to say to me and so it was.  They break your heart over and over and the lone­liness is com­plete.  You have no friends in the convent.

 

I can assure you there are no friends.  Even though there were 180 girls in my particular wing, not one was my friend and neither was I a friend to them.  You are allowed no friends in the convent—we are all policemen and detec­tives just watching one another and com­pelled to tell on each other.  The little nun who would find some­thing to tell on another nun stands in good favor with the Mother Superior.  Then that Mother teaches that nun to be­lieve that when she stands in good favor with the Mother Superior, she is standing in good favor with God.  Of course that little nun desires that so she will tell a lot of things which are not even truth.

 

 

SOLD  MY  SOUL

 

 

After all of this has so far transpired, everything I have is gone—I HAVE SOLD MY SOUL FOR A MASS OF THEOLOGICAL POTTAGE.  Not only are we destroyed in our bodies but many of us in our minds as well.  Many of us, if we die in the convent, will have lost our souls.  It is a serious and pitiful thing and I covet your prayers for all those little helpless nuns behind cloistered convent doors.

 

They will never know the gospel.  They will never know Christ—they will only know evil in its most terrifying and hopeless form.  They will never feel the re­flection of God and the Christos—they will only know death and mechanical and tortured existence.

 

 

AFTER  THE  VOWS,  THE  NEXT - -

 

 

After the vows have transpired, the Mother Superior sends me into another room.  When I walk into that room I see something I have never seen before.  I see a Roman Catholic Priest dressed in a Holy Habit.  He walks over to me and locks his arm into my arm which had never been done in any of my previ­ous experience in the convent.  I had never had a priest insult me in any man­ner; I had never had one even be unkind to me in the first part of my convent experience.

 

But here he is now, and of course I didn’t understand what it was all about and I didn’t know what in the world the man expected of me.  I pulled from him because I felt highly insulted and said “shame on you”.  It made him very an­gry.  The Mother Superior must have heard my voice for she immediately came to the room.  She said, “After you’ve been in the convent a little while, you won’t feel this way.  The rest of us felt this way in the beginning but you know, the priest’s body is sanctified and therefore it is not a sin to give our bodies unto the priest.”  In other words, they teach every little nun this, “As the holy ghost placed the germ in Mary’s womb and Jesus Christ was born, so the priest is the Holy Ghost and therefore it is no sin for you to bear his chil­dren.”

 

Let me assure you, that is what they come to the convent for—there is no other purpose in all of this world for a priest to come to the convent except to rob those precious little girls of their virtue.  I’ll be telling you later in this testi­mony just what they really do.

 

At this point every bridge has been burned out from under me—there is no way back, I can’t get out of the convent even though I pled; oh how I pled with that priest.  I cried for my fa­ther—I wanted to go home.  I told him I wanted to go no farther.  He laughed in my face and, believe me, that is when you stand alone—there is none to whom to turn.  You are caught in the circum­stance for there is no way in which to get out of the convent. 

 

I assure you, I stayed in the convent until God made a way for me to come out.

 

After all these things, now I am expected to go into the chamber with the priest.  Did I go?  No—I had not entered the convent to be a bad woman.  I wouldn’t have suffered as I had suf­fered to be a bad woman—I was there to be pure and Godly.  I had entered the convent to give my heart, life and soul to God and I had no other purpose in being there.  But you will soon learn why it is easier to do that which is expected than to disobey.  Of course I refused to go into the private chamber with him, and would have fought un­til I spilled my last drop of blood.  Well, I didn’t go with him but on the next morning I knew that I would have to do penance.

A  LITTLE  PENANCE

 

 

When the Mother Superior said, the next morning, that I would need to do penance—I would be initiated as a Carmelite nun.  I remember that when she walked me down into that particular place of penance, it was a dark room which was dark and cold.  As we walked to­ward the front of the room I could see the little candles burning.  Any­where in the convent you will find the seven candles burning.  As I came closer I saw the candles but I couldn’t see any­thing else and of course I wondered what she was going to do to me.  I felt ter­ror rise in my heart for it is one thing you cannot completely get rid of.

 

As I came a little closer I could see something lying there on a board.  When I came very close I could see it was a little nun ly­ing there on what I call “a cooling board”.  The board was the same length as the girl.  As I looked closely and watched the candle light flicker on her face, I realized the child was dead. 

 

Questions rushed into my brain; how did she die, why is she here, how long has she been here—why am I here?  But I had signed away every human right so I am not allowed to utter even one word.  So, I just stood staring.  Then the Mother Superior said, “You stand vigil over this dead body for one hour and then another little nun will come to relieve you.”  So every few minutes during that hour I would walk over to the little body and sprinkle it with holy water and say “Peace be unto you.”

 

I did exactly what they told me to do even though it was a terrible feeling.  But I was not afraid of the dead people for I had already learned it was the live people we had to be most cautious of.  I wasn’t afraid of that little dead nun but oh, my heart ached for her.

 

After the little bell rang I realized my hour was up.  Then as I am waiting for my signal to be re­lieved—we must always walk on our toes in silence—I wait.  I waited silently and heard nothing but I was quite unnerved being there with the little dead nun—so when the relieving nun laid her hand on my shoulder, I let out a scream in total terror.  I didn’t mean to do it; I didn’t break the rule of silence on purpose but I was scared.

 

Immediately I had to come before the Mother Superior and that was the first time I was to learn and know about a dungeon.  I had no idea there were dun­geons in the convent.  Well, she put me in a place of total darkness, dirty and floorless, and left me there in the total darkness for three days and three nights, without food or water.  I assure you, I didn’t scream any more.  I re­ally tried to never again break the rules of screaming because I now knew there was a dungeon and they will promptly put you in it.  Let me tell you it is not a nice place to be.

 

 

MASTERPIECE  OF  SATAN

 

 

Before I go further, let me tell you that this potpourri is a mas­terpiece of Sa­tan—A MASTER­PIECE OF SATAN, with his lying wonders and his tradi­tions and his deceptions—it is a terrible thing when you know about it.

 

After the three days in the dungeon the Mother Superior came to me and in­formed me that I must do penance.  She took me down into an­other room underground.  As I entered the room I could see a piece of wood there, and as I got closer I could see that it was a cross.  It was made of heavy timbers, per­haps eight to ten feet high.  It was sitting on an incline and was very heavy.  She had me walk to the base of the cross and she had me strip off my clothes and then had me drape my body over the foot of the cross.  She pulled my hands un­derneath and bound them to my feet.  This is where I would be spilling my blood but she had not told me how and neither could I ask just how I would spill it.

 

There were two little nuns who came with her and she gave them a flagella­tion whip which is a bamboo type pole with six straps on its end and on the end of each strip was a cross piece of sharp metal.  Each nun was given a whip and they stood on either side of the cross.  At the same time, those girls began whipping my body.  When the metal hit my body it would, of course, slash my skin.  It would cut into the flesh and I spilled blood, running down to the floor.  Well, that was my spilling of blood, and being human it wounded, it hurt—it was very painful but you dare not cry out.  After the whipping is over, my body was not bathed but rather my clothing was put back upon my body and I have to go the rest of the day with the clothing sticking into the wounds.

 

When the night comes and I stand in front of my cell bed—we have to stand with our backs to each other to undress—I had to rip the cloth from my wounds and oh, it was terrible.  I couldn’t sleep at all that night; I was not a bit sleepy because I couldn’t get all of my clothing off for they were dried into the wounds.  The cloth remained dried into the wounds for sev­eral days.  Nei­ther could I eat the following morning of that awful event.

 

In the mornings we got a cup of black coffee in a tin cup and we could have no milk or sugar of any kind.  We were also given one slice of bread made by the nuns of the cloister—it weighs ex­actly four ounces.  That is all that is given for breakfast.  Then in the evening there is a small bowl of soup made with only vegetables with no seasoning what-so-ever, with a half slice of bread.  Three times a week I receive a half glass of skimmed milk.  This was my food three hun­dred sixty five days in the year.

 

Of course I began to lose weight very rapidly because there was not enough food to eat.  There was never a night that I went to bed without a hungry stomach.  Sometimes the hunger pangs would be so severe I could not sleep.  The pain would be gnawing and one could hardly stand it.  You know, though, that you are still only going to get that one tiny slice of bread in the morning.  Of course it couldn’t begin to fill up the stomach and, of course, you have to work very hard all day.

I covet your prayers for those little nuns because you cannot imag­ine the mis­ery.  You will go to bed with a full stomach tonight but those little girls are starving, and they are lonely, wounded, heartsick and homesick.  They are in total discouragement and worst of all, they have NO hope.  No hope what-so-ever.  You and I can look forward to the day when we can see Jesus—they have no hope, they believe they will never see Jesus.  Please do not forget to pray for them.

 

 

ANOTHER  INITIATION

 

 

A few days later the Mother Superior is taking me to another place for an­other initiation.  When I go into the penance chamber this morning, we come into another area down there and the distance was quite a long ways to walk.  It was a tunnel we pass through and then we come out into a room.  When I walk a good distance into the room I see the candles burning and in addition I see a rope hanging down from the ceiling and I am so scared.  I don’t know what the ropes are for and I silently cry out in wondering what she is going to do.  As you do the penances you begin to have a lot of fear in your heart.  I can’t say anything but I walk on and realize there are two ropes hanging down.  She tells me to move over to the wall and stand sideways against the wall un­derneath the ropes.  Then she tells me to put up both of my thumbs, and I did so.  She pulled one rope down and on it was a metal band which she fastens around the joint of my thumb and then the other.  Now I am standing facing the wall, and she comes over by me to a crank on the wall and she be­gins winding.  I feel myself moving and she is taking me right up into the air.  She winds until my toes are just touching the floor and there she fastens it.

 

All of the weight of my body is now on my thumbs and on the tips of my toes.  Not a word is spo­ken—no one utters a word.  She walks out of that room and locks the door.  If you can imagine what it means to hear a key lock in a door and know that I am strung up here help­less, you can’t imagine—unless you are a nun.  When she walked out of that room I couldn’t know how long I would stay there. 

 

They left me there wondering if “this was it”?  Would I simply die like this?  They left me alone without food or water.  Within a few hours my muscles be­gan to scream out with the pain, for I was, af­ter all, a human being.  I was suf­fering unbearably and that woman left me to hang and nobody came near.  It does no good to cry.  You can spill every tear in your body but nobody will hear—there is no one there to hear.  I just hung there, finally being convinced I was to die there.  I began to feel the swelling and then I don’t know how much time passed.  Finally the door opened one morning and the nun had some­thing for me to eat and water in a pan with pota­toes in it.  The potatoes were not fit to eat.

 

There was a shelf on the wall facing me and it can be adjusted to the height of a nun.  Now re­member, I am not against the wall—I am several inches away from the wall.  She raises the shelf to the height of my mouth and puts the food and water on the shelf in front of me.  She says, “There is your food,” and walks out.

 

She didn’t let my hands down—how can I get the food?  But you learn, for you are so hungry but worse, you are so thirsty you feel as if you are going mad.  To get it, I discovered that if I raise one hand a bit higher the other would come down just a bit and then over and over bit by bit I finally could just reach the dish.  I had to lap it like an animal but I got just as much as I could reach.  I worked until I got as much of the potato as I could be­cause I was starv­ing—it was awful and I am so pained to remember.

 

That was the way I was fed for a while.  I hung there for nine days and nine nights in that posi­tion.  The time came when I was so swollen that I could ac­tually see the puffing as it pro­truded.  I thought my eyes would come out of my head.  I could feel that my arms, etc., were two to three times normal size and I was that way all over my body.  I was in real suffering as it was like my entire body was like a “boil”.

 

On the ninth day she comes in and releases the bonds and lets me down on the floor.  I fall but I cannot walk.  I didn’t walk for I don’t know how long.  Two little nuns carry me out, one lifts my feet and the other my shoulder.  They carry me to the infirmary and lay me on a slab of wood and there they cut the clothing from my body.  Nobody but God will ever know how awful; I am covered with vermin and filth—my own human filth.

 

In that room are no facilities but right behind me is a stool with a pail and they have running wa­ter through it—but the lid is down and on the lid are sharp nails driven through the lid.  If I would fall on that I would suffer terribly.  If the rope would break I would have not survived and the suffering would be unbearable.

 

This, dear friends, is the life of a little nun behind cloistered doors.  This is af­ter they have al­ready received the disillusion­ment—this is the life that we will live and these are the things that we will be forced to do.

 

I remember, as I lived on in that place, let me tell you that in the mornings we get out of our beds before 4:30 in the mornings.  The Mother Superior taps a bell and that gives five min­utes to dress.  I tell you surely, you get that clothing on in five min­utes—not five and a half.  I failed once and was severely pun­ished—I never failed again in all of the years in the convent.

 

When we finish dressing, we start marching and we march and march.

EVEN  BEFORE  THE  BLACK  VEIL

 

 

In the beginning days in the convent the lies were thrust forth.  As an example, let us say a mother comes to visit and brings the child a bit of candy.

 

The mother would ask to speak to the Mother Superior and request to see the daughter.  The child will then be brought to the other side of a wall where the mother cannot see her.  But the mother will speak to her and ask if she is happy to be here.  That little nun will lie and say to her mother that she is very happy.  Well, the Mother Superior would be standing right there and the child would have no alternative.  God alone knows what the Mother Su­perior would do to the little nun if she failed to lie.  Then as a mother will, she will ask if the child has plenty to eat and the little nun will lie again and tell her “Oh, yes, we have plenty to eat.” 

 

That mother will then go home and be happy and share the news and a meal with the rest of the family.  But if she could look within and see our table and see what her little girl eats—if she could just look in at her little girl after three or four years, she would see that her eyes are sunken completely into her head and her little body is wasted away.  I can promise you that mother would never be able to eat another meal.  If a parent could see a child after she has been in a convent for a period of time—they would never rest again.

 

Of course these things are all hidden, completely under-cover and the chil­dren have no choice—we are given what we shall have and we take it or die.

 

Dharma, enough for this sitting.  Let us take respite.  Thank you, chela, for your willing hands.  I give you peace.

 

I AM SANANDA and I am ever with you.  Amen.

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