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Chapter Three
His Name is John.
Ghosts have always been a part of my life. They may be telling me about Aunt Lou's gout or that Uncle Billy should be careful driving his pickup today, but they were always talking with me. My thought was that they were going about the everyday business of living just as I was.
When I was a child, I had one ghost friend whom I referred to as God. Like a good parent, though he wasn't my parent but a dear friend, he was always there to talk with me, teaching me right from wrong and helping me to see the other person's point of view.
For example, if I were to let jealousy into my thoughts, he would instantly give me a very logical talking to, but he did it in such a way as to get my attention rather than to make me want to shut him out. He made me see that there are always two sides to every story and that my feelings were not the only feelings involved.
He was my rock. When I needed a friend, he was there. Ever vigilant in my spiritual growth, he helped me through my childhood years.
This glorious man taught me to always stand for my word, to be kind to others as I would want them to be kind to me, to love everyone and to stand up for my beliefs though I
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