Chapter 1
Extraordinary Experiences with The Creator

My experiences with God started when I was fairly young.  I grew up in my parents’ grocery store where we all lived and worked; the back door of the store was the entrance to a cozy three-bedroom apartment.  Special. I considered myself a normal kid, (maybe a little hyper at times), but people thought I was extraordinary.  I was the youngest of four children.  My sister Lisa and I grew up together and because she was older than me, she was a bully.  She would always make me do things I didn’t want to do.  At night, for example, she would force me to sneak back into the store, when it was closed, to get her candy.  My mom would work an 11pm to 7am overnight nursing shift and my dad could usually be found in the basement testing out the speakers he spent so much time building.  Let me explain why it was such a bad idea to sneak into that store in the dark. 

         The entrance, from the apartment to the store, had a trap door on the floor right in front of it which led to the basement.  Whenever it was left open, there was only an eight-inch perimeter that ran alongside it. I had to step carefully in order to get around it.  This one particular night, when Lisa sent me to get candy, I ran into the dark store and maneuvered right around the opened trap door, and stuffed my pockets with Snicker bars, Laffy Taffies, and Jolly Ranchers.  I was really anxious to get back to my room because I planned to help Lisa devour the delicious treats.  On my way back, however, I lost my balance and fell right into the hole…nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see. 

        I landed sideways on my right knee and hip, facing the boiler room area.  My slammed eyes shut as I lay there for a few seconds.  Although I was hurt, I felt no pain once I opened my eyes.  I saw several demonic spirits and the shock overrode every other feeling in my body.  They were everywhere, but mostly by the boiler.  One specific spirit seemed as if it led the pack.  It was a grey, witch-like old lady’s spirit that looked like a dead body.  She zoomed in on me with her green and red eyes as the other spirits gathered behind her. She peered into my eyes with the intention of getting closer to me.  I don’t even know how I managed to run away because at seven years old, this was traumatic.  With my fearful heart beat in my mouth, I still didn’t want to get in trouble with my parents. I shot up the steps, across the perimeter and back into the apartment where Lisa stood laughing.  Once I told her what I had seen she quickly grew afraid, yet because as children we were taught to kneel down and pray before going to bed Lisa suggested we say a prayer in our room-with all the lights on! After the prayer I felt relieved and safe; we felt as if God had removed those spirits because of our direct requests for help through prayer.  It was the answer to the problem and even at that age I was able to sleep, knowing that God would protect me. 

By the time I turned nine my mom had saved enough money to purchase a house in Freeport, Long Island.  My father had been squandering away the profits made at the store with careless women and my mom quickly grew tired of the situation.  It was a tense time for everyone in my family; my parents argued on a daily basis.  I’ll never forget when my dad left my mom.  I was about eleven years old.  I was quickly forced to assume the responsibilities of running the family business after school.  I was the man of the house.  My mom’s shift changed.  She worked from 3pm to 11pm. When the school bell rang at 2:15pm I knew to make sure I was at the store by 2:40pm, so that I could relieve my mom and she could get ready for work.  My mother was a very hard-working woman who diligently carried out her responsibilities (and she still is).  This became my daily routine. I didn’t complain much; I understood responsibility at a young age.  It came naturally.  I learned to multi-task as I helped clients at the counter and managed the whole store while simultaneously doing my homework.  I was privileged at twelve years old.  I even learned to drive in order to go out and purchase goods for the store.  I look back and realize just how different I’ve always been.  I may have grown up too fast, but I know that everything happened just the way it needed to. 

At thirteen, my mom grew sick.   It was probably from the depression my dad left her in.  When they split up, doctors diagnosed her with cancer in one breast and a hyperactive thyroid gland.  I would have never expected my mother, a nurse, to ever get sick.  Although she would cry a lot during those times and say that she was alone in her troubles, I would always comfort my mother by reminding her that I would never leave her side.  Those days stand out in my memory as the longest times of my life.  I swear, that all happened in slow motion or something. I have disturbing memories of my mom breaking out in anxiety attacks, abnormal heart palpitations and distress.  It was scary to me and horribly depressing.   As my mother’s illness worsened, doctors began preparing her for surgery.  It didn’t take long for her to need surgery. Mom was afraid because years back her sister died from cancer but she confided strongly in God and knew that she would be ok. 

My mother had her surgery and her recovery was slow and tedious.   At that time, prescription medication was the most popular road to recovery, but even though I was a child, I instinctively knew that true aid came directly from God’s creations.  One Saturday I visited a nearby health food store and started a conversation with Bob, the owner.  We talked about the herbs and vitamins that could help speed up my mother’s recovery.  Because I didn’t have all that much money, I asked for the one vitamin or mineral that would work best.  He recommended Co-enzyme Q10.  I purchased it and went straight home to show my mom.  She thanked me because she knew it would help.  She had definitely heard of it and wasted no time in beginning her new daily regimen.  It was truly a miracle to watch my mother become so vibrant!  When she took those vitamins she said she felt brand new.  It was such a blessing. 

Thank God my mother eventually recovered from her cancer battle. She then very generously decided to buy me the car she knew I always wanted (yes, I was only thirteen years old).  Remember, I never quite had too much time for myself, but one night, on my day off, I took my cousin and his friend to Brooklyn, NY.   We drove around a bit, nothing too crazy and headed back home.  I noticed that my dashboard lights grew dim and that my car wasn’t running right as we approached JFK Airport on the service road of the Belt Parkway.  I started to make my way towards the curb and about a minute later my car stalled, then rolled to a complete stop.  What a disappointing disaster! I was officially broken down, in my favorite, new car and I guess we were all shocked because no one made a sound.  I immediately popped open the hood and got out to see if I could find the problem.  Because it had just started to rain, it was nasty, cold and wet.  I could hear the loud sizzle-like splashes from the non-stop traffic, but one particular noise grabbed my attention.  Still standing in front of my car, I leaned to the right a little and looked down the driver’s side in search of the noise that sounded like it was coming from the rear of my car.  I realized that another car had lost control and was about to ram right into my rear bumper.  I felt helpless, so I froze in place and what happened next is really hard to explain!  The sliding car relentlessly rammed right into my rear bumper.  Then weirdly enough I felt a vertical pole or a bar (or maybe even a post of some sort, just about the height of my body,) gently push me from in front of my car and onto the patches of grass on the ground to my left.  So, yes…I was scooped out from “reality.”  For some strange reason I became exempt from tragedy.  As my car thrusted forward from the impact, I was gently, yet unexplainably thrown to safety.  I most certainly did not have time to react on my own.  I pulled myself together and slowly got on my feet while gasping for air. My vision was blurry but I noticed that I had blood on my fingers so I searched for a wound until I felt that the blood was coming from my face.  “Why was I bleeding?” I thought to myself.  I hadn’t been hit by my car and I certainly didn’t land on my face when I ended up on the ground.  Still confused, I shifted my focus to the terror up the road and all the way to the left lane where my trunk lay on the ground.  I scanned the road, trembling and hopped over carefully to my cousin and his friend who were still inside my mangled, yet favorite new car.  Thank God, they were alright. Thank God!

            The next morning, with my inoperable car in the driveway, I told my mom about what had happened the night before.  I emphasized on how I was pushed out from in front of the car and I looked to her hoping she would shed some light on the situation.  That didn’t happen.  Instead, she looked at me as if she understood why something like that would happen but kept it to herself.  She advised me to keep that “unexplainable” part of the incident to myself because people would think I was crazy.  When I went back outside to look at my car; I popped the hood and like a gum shoe, scrutinized the scene of the incident until I finally saw something that helped me realize why my face was bleeding the night before.  On the passenger side, front corner of the hood I found a tiny piece of weathered flesh. It was a subtle detail that helped me replay what happened (exactly) when my car was hit. Insanely enough, I was still standing in front of the car the instant it began moving forward from the collision.   As the car progressed forward, I was pushed to my left and the metal hood clipped me in the corner of my right eye, ripping some skin right off my face.  Only a great force could have had anything to do with me NOT having wound up seriously injured or dead.   As I stood there piecing the puzzle together, I looked up, like a trusting child looks at his father.  “I am important to God” I thought to myself while I stood under the clear blue autumn skies and tears gathered in my eyes as I knew that I was protected.  It was confirmed again and there was no question in my mind that I was protected.

God had saved my life!