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Inspirational Stories for Spiritual Youth
Inspirational Stories for Spiritual Youth
Inspirational Stories for Spiritual Youth
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Inspirational Stories for Spiritual Youth

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A collection of tales that encourage seekers to view life through the eyes of spirituality in order to find hope and purpose. Focusing on youth who receive help from angels, spiritual masters and guides, the short stories reveal the continual, life-affirming presence of God in youthful lives.
Giving hope and encouragement to people of all ages, "Inspirational Stories For Spiritual Youth," promotes faith and deep thoughts about the purpose of life.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateNov 2, 2010
ISBN9781449081072
Inspirational Stories for Spiritual Youth
Author

Bobby A Boudreau

A graduate from The Institute Of Children's Literature, Bobby A Boudreau was raised in a small New England town. His spiritual journey began at the age of seven, with a spirit presence and haunting activities which occured in the home he was raised in. During his youth which included Sunday school, his scientific mind sought out truth, knowledge and wisdom. He was drawn toward the existence of a Universal Spirit, a divine being, God...the creator. His desire for the proof of God was satisfied with his first spiritual insight and revelation at the age of eight. His life's journey has been challenging and enlightening. His stories reflect, in part, on his own true experiences in life.

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    Inspirational Stories for Spiritual Youth - Bobby A Boudreau

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    The Enlightened Path

    Meditation

    The Clairvoyant

    An Angelic Journey

    Spirit Horse

    Megan’s Brillant Discovery

    Dreams

    The Rock Garden

    An Old Sage

    A Haunted House

    Auras And Chakras

    The Christ Light

    Child Healer

    A Sweat Lodge

    Soul Twins

    White Feather

    Crossing the Veil

    The Rainbow

    Allison’s Animal Totem

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    THE ENLIGHTENED PATH

    Jerome woke at the crack of dawn to the aroma of the tea that his uncle was steeping. He sat up and dressed in his deer skin hide he made to fit snug around his waist and tied it with a thong. He was tall and had shiny, long, black hair with hazel eyes. He had a muscular build, for he worked out often and climbed the Sacred Mountain. He went to the fire at the mouth of the cave and poured himself a cup of hot tea.

    His uncle Reual, a mountain man with long white hair and a white beard, had raised him on the Sacred Mountain after Jerome’s mother had died when he was two years old. Reual had taken him in, sharing with the boy the cave that he called home. After fourteen years here, Jerome knew the Sacred Mountain well.

    Today I will go on a vision quest to the summit of Sacred Mountain, where I will meditate until I get a sign from the spirit, Jerome said, then sipped his tea.

    I’ll be here when you get back, Reual replied.

    I’ll bring my hammer and chisel, and get some more amethyst, geodes, and quartz crystals from our secret mines, along with more medicinal herbs to trade. I noticed we are running out of supplies. Jerome put on his leather head band dyed with red ochre, grabbed a sack and then headed on his vision quest.

    He lived close by the river and decided to refresh himself with a cool swim. Then, he headed North up the mountain to the crystal mines. One half mile up the mountain, Jerome found the amethyst mine. He took out his hammer and chisel and cracked open a rock containing a beautiful amethyst, which danced in the shimmering lights under the autumn sun.

    Perfect, Jerome thought, This should make a good trade when I go to town.

    Continuing North to the summit of the mountain, he came across some of the medicinal herbs Reual had taught him about. He gathered up some hedge hyssop, holly, eyebright, mint, mistletoe, and scotch pine and put them in his sack. Then, he headed to the geode mine. He chiseled and split the fine crystals from the rocks and added them to his sack. Then, he found some yarrow plants and sage, and picked them. Another mile later, he came across the quartz crystal mine and, once again, chiseled the rocks and loosened the crystals that shone with rainbows from within.

    I have enough here now for a handsome trade, Jerome thought, then smiled.

    He continued walking, crunching the autumn leaves under his moccasins, smelling the Earth scents. He finally made it to his sacred place on the summit of the mountain. There were no clouds that day, only blue skies. He stood facing West at the edge of a cliff and admired the spectacular view. Across the way, a magnificent waterfall created a brilliant rainbow.

    The sun set over the horizon, displaying colors of crimson and violet.

    Jerome had built a fireplace with a wall of rocks, from when he had been there before.. He gathered some fallen branches and bark to start a sacred fire. He took his flint out and struck it. A spark flew, which started a fire.

    Jerome had fasted all day, the easier to meditate and call on the spirits. He took sage and burned it in the fire and smudged himself to draw away negativity. He hoped to speak with his master Meoma who he had met there before.

    A half hour later, a cool wind passed through the sacred place and behind Jerome stood a man-tall, dark and proud. He wore full Native American Cherokee regalia, with an eagle feather in his long black hair.

    Nice roaring fire you have there, Jerome.

    Meoma, you surprised me, Jerome replied. It’s nice to see you again.

    I have a quest for you, Meoma said. There is a boy about your age in town where you trade. He needs help, He drinks a lot of fire water, alcohol, and takes drugs. He is in a lot of trouble. I am his master also, and he is soul searching, but lost. I cannot reach him. He is poisoning his soul and blocking the light of the spirit world. Perhaps you can talk with him and guide him on the enlightened path.

    What is his name? Jerome asked.

    Daniel, Meoma replied. He just started working at the supply warehouse where you go to trade.

    I’ll see what I can do, Jerome said, sitting at the fire and looking into Meoma’s deep brown eyes.

    They talked more and told enlightening tales to one another until it became late.

    It is time for me to go, Meoma said. He got up and walked away, then disappeared.

    Jerome put out the fire with loose soil and then headed down the mountain with his sack. A full moon and stars lit up the autumn sky and the Sacred Mountain. He heard the sounds of night birds and owls. He walked a fast and steady pace.

    He was so grateful when he reached the mouth of his uncle’s cave. He was exhausted. The embers of the fire still glowed, showing him the way. He crawled under his furs and fell sound asleep.

    Jerome awoke by mid-morning and looked up to the smoke hole on the ceiling of the cave. The sun’s rays

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