More than a feeling

I have a belief that music contains it own place in each persons life. I am not a musician. I can not sing. Never the less music has a place in my heart. I have worship with it and came closer to a unseen God that any other time. I have mourn losses with it. Learn to heal with it. I was not able to understand someone point of view I could ask them to tell me what music they like and find my way into the windows of there soul. I am a healer and this is my story.

A very long time ago there was a person who show me how to heal.

This lady was the least likely person on the planet to befriend me. I had been abused as a child and was unaware of its effects. Rosy read me like a book the hurt in my eyes and the fear of everyone I met. I was just a boy 11 or 12. I love to fish but, really had no one to show me how. Rosy lived on the lake and like to fish as well. This was at first the only thing we had in common. She taught me how to gather bait by watering the yard and collecting worms in the evening. Rosy taught that the simple ways to catch fish was find shade were the water usually ran off into the lake. That is were the fish would be. With nothing more than a cane pole, string, weight, and a hook we would catch more fish than all the people in fancy boats and rod and reels would ever catch. Rosy most important lessons were about the sadness in my life. I had a father who was telling me I was worthless and I believed him. My mother had told me I was just a mistake she made when she was drunk. They both would fight anytime they were together and usually blame me for it. Rosy would tell me I was only responsible for my own mistakes and not there's. That I was made by a God who didn't make junk. Rosy show me my worth in everything. When I say everything I mean everything we did was a lesson in life. To Rosy everything in nature has meaning and is for learning. She would show me how animals took care of themselves and there young and show me how I was to take care of myself as well. Rosy said I had to listen to hear and not listen to reply. People make there own music she said. Some do it with words and some do it with the way they act but, we all make music. Rosy told me my music was sad because I believed what others told me about me. She told me I had to believe in myself. It is ok to here what people say. It is not ok to just agree without thinking about what they were saying. She would compare them to silly nursery rhymes. You hear them and laugh and they are fun. You know that they are not true or a matter of fact. Some teach you lessons that are important so you will remember but, they only make a big deal so you can remember it.

People are the same way they make a big deal so you remember it and, think it is important what they are saying. Rosy told me she was a healer and this was her way. Then she said I could do it too. First thing she told me was not to tell others that I was a healer but, listen to there song and see if they would let you heal them. I said I would like to be a healer but wasn't sure I could do it. Rosy said she choose me because the song on my heart was strong and inside I was a kind soul. Rosy explained that this was not like being a doctor, That I could choose to do anything I wanted to do in life. Healing was a gift and only a few people had it. I would not being healing people bodies directly. I would being giving them peace on the inside. What happen on the outside would be up to them. So I ask Rosy how would I be trained then? Was it books? She said only the Good book (Bible) the rest would be listening to music to hear what people were saying and what it meant. Once I learned what songs were saying I would be able to hear what people say and hear there music. Rosy took me to her home a place that was put together from what I could only guess was a old one room school house converted into a home. Rosy was a jack of trades. She did what she wanted to do for a living. Sometimes fixing interiors of old cars. Sometimes being a caterer. Sometimes just selling something she thought was worth while. I went inside and the first room was like a record store old albums in large shelves with labels from each artists. The next room was like a recording room where you could do a computer demo it looked like. The room we stop at was just a desktop with speakers on every corner. Rosy then me ask what kind of music I like to hear. I told her I like music from the 1970s best. Rock and roll before all the Metal and Punks took over. I could not tell her why. Rosy laughed picked up a album that said Boston on the cover and said you mean like this. I said yes the song more than a feeling was my favorite. I saw a little tear fall from her eye and she said mine too. Rosy said here real name was Mary Ann and the song had been written for her many, many summers ago.