Jackson Free Press

I was nervous standing behind Dr. Glenn Mendoza, director of neonatology at Good Samaritan Hospital of New York. He was already at the podium talking to more than 300 people who came from all over the world to attend a pranic healing seminar.

This was my second time to see Master Choa, the modern-day founder of pranic healing. His powerful non-invasive method of using and channeling life-force energy into good health and happiness has helped millions of people around the world. It is not a replacement for standardized medicine, but rather complements the healing process and helps restore balance to the body.

I was one of two people chosen to be in charge of Master Choa's refreshments during the weekend retreat. Vannessa, the other helper, was an experienced pranic healer from Los Angeles.

"Is that hot water from yesterday?" I thought when I saw the carafe on the podium. "I should pour a little on my hand to make sure." I opened the sealed carafe and tested it by pouring a little of the water onto my waiting wrist. It was boiling hot, causing me to pour out the contents onto my open hand. I did not scream—probably because of the shock and the fact that I was on stage in front of all of those people. It never occurred to me that I was in a room full of healers and probably any one of them could have helped me. I ran out of the grand ballroom and down the hall to the hotel's bathroom.

I turned on the faucet with my good hand—pushing it as far over to the right as possible—as if a secret extra push would make the water even colder. The pain was deep and searing. Swollen and mottled purple, my hand had morphed into a baseball mitt.

Vannessa followed me. She picked up my hand from the sink and began to use pranic healing. She gently swept down my arm using long-flowing strokes. Little shards of pain peeled away with every brush of her hand. The swelling and discoloration began to fade. Then, for a brief moment, the searing pain returned—as fierce as it was in those first few seconds of the accident, but in reverse. It was as if Vannessa was a magnet pulling the whole incident out of my hand. She had swept the pain away.

We were back on stage before Master Choa even appeared. At lunchtime, I washed my hands. The hot water stung a little. It took me a moment before I remembered why.

Previous Comments

ID

84982

Comment

Interesting.

Author

LatashaWillis

Date

2007-10-10T21:42:46-06:00

ID

84983

Comment

Pat, such an amazing story!!! Enjoyed it. Jackie

Author

J.T.

Date

2007-10-11T20:10:07-06:00