A Rose for My Mother
A Rose for My Mother
A Memoir
Perfect Bound Softcover
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In this extraordinary true story, parapsychology expert Nancy Lee Canfield reveals how her early years shaped and prepared her for a lifetime of studying the paranormal. A Rose for My Mother chronicles Nancy's turbulent childhood in and out of five foster homes and an orphanage before the age of thirteen. She gives raw, intimate details of her troubled teen years of trying to understand the emotions that come with the first kiss. Following an early marriage at seventeen and increased paranormal expoeriences, Nancy begins a lifelong study of parapsychology. What would happen in the days fllowing includes world renowned psychic investigator, Allen Spraggett inviting Nancy to participate in the 50th anniversary seance at the Harry Houdini Museum in Niagara Falls, Canada, and Mike Randall of WKBW-TV dubbing Nancy a "Ghost Buster" after she successfully resolved the problems in a house that was claimed to be haunted. Following her perplexing marriage and divorce, Nancy had a whirlwind romance with a millionaire playboy and had to make a choice - should she accept the marriage proposal or continue with her research into the world of the unknown? Nancy shares insight on how to harness the powers of our own minds and imaginations in order to overcome the fears, troubles and complexities in our lives. We are reminded of the physical, emotional and spiritual benefits of meditation. Her message is that "All the power is within you!" “Learning only occurs in response to challenges, and Nancy has written an absorbing account of how, in her case, overcoming incredible challenges has led to the emergence of a higher intelligence. It is not only a tale of triumph over adversity, but of the certainty of rescue from hopelessness.” Edward Green,PhD, Emeritus, Guerry Professor of Psychology “Against the backdrop of her family’s heartbreaking difficulties during the Great Depression, this story begins with a little girl who tries valiantly to understand the meaning of grown-ups’ rather confusing words and silences. Her intuitive successes told the adults that she managed well and was self-confident, but they left her feeling isolated and unloved. Does everyone have higher sensory perception? Nancy shows us that with focused work and discipline, we can nurture that infant part of us so that it can help us enjoy life to the fullest.” Dr. Joan Ashkin,EdD, LCSW, RN
.....The owner told us that most of the strange activities occurred in the basement. We walked through the first floor to the back of the building and went down the narrow staircase into the basement. The walls were all of original stone. The approximate height from the dirt floor to the hand-hewn support beams overhead was a little over five feet. There were no windows. The only light in the basement was from the bulb that dangled from the center to the ceiling, casting harsh light on the damp walls. Grace attempts to uncover the mystery of what is causing the paranormal activities in the basement. "Grace, are you feeling anything?" "Yes, something straight up and down. I see chains as if it's something binding.It's a symbolof these people or spirits. the're bound to this place." "What do you feel is present right now?" (Grace begins to gasp for air. In a short time she regained control). What are you getting, grace?" "I fee sick (Grace almost cries). Something traumatic happened here. There were two partners, but one didn't want the other. They argued about the split. I feel that one departed very suddenly. I feel the coldness on the side of my face again. There's something untold. I can't gert it; something that they want someone to know; murdered! You will find something that will lead to it. It happened many, many years ago. I keep hearing many, many. Traces are almost gone. There was a murder here. Body isn't here. They say this person stumbled and fell and at that time it didn't go to an investigation. The man didn't stumble and fall. They're telling me he was murdered. Something is present. I can smell it. I feel iced as if I'm in a cooler, like storage. The smell is there, terrible, like rotting flesh; a body was here. I want to say it was moved, but I can't be positive. I'm iced. I'm at a point of saying it was here. I keep hearing, 'It was here,' over and over again." "The body that you say was here - was it male or female?" "It was male. I don't feel anything too strong here; I feel it stronger over there." (Grace indicates the front of the basement). I think I'm going to be sick." (Grace heads for the stairs). We three agreed about feeling a strong energy force at the far end of the basement. Not taking my eyes from the far corner of the basement, I said, "Brenda, go with her, make sure she's all right. I'll be okay until you get back." I knew that if I looked away, something terrible would happen--but I didn't know what! Breathing the air in the basement was like breathing terror itself. Then, I remembered what my father once told me: "You’re only afraid if you think you’re afraid.” Taking a deep breath, I reached for the gold cross on the chain I wore around my neck. It was the cross that I bought in the Vatican gift shop, blessed by the pope. I always wore it--it made me feel safe. As Brenda headed up the stairs, a blue, glowing, iridescent orb began to form in the far corner of the basement. The orb just hung in the air. I thought I could keep it from moving toward me as long as I kept my eyes on it. Soon, it became a battle of good against evil. The bulb that dangled from the center of the basement went out. I was in total darkness. I tried to remain calm while I kept my eyes on the blue orb that seemed to be glowing brighter. A strange feeling at the nape of my neck gave me goose bumps. “Brenda! Turn the light back on!” I yelled. “I didn’t turn it off!” Brenda yelled back. The blue orb became larger and brighter as it came toward me. I felt a deep jolt in my stomach and a trembling in my legs. It whizzed past my ear with a cold rush of air and a harsh guttural whisper “One Not Three.” It was a message that it wanted only one of us! Which one did it want? I couldn't remain calm any longer. I panicked at the threat, turned and ran toward the stairs, hitting my forehead on one of the overhead beams. As I felt the pain of the impact, the lone bulb, hanging from the basement ceiling came back on. "Nancy, are you okay?" Brenda asked as she started down the basement stairs." "I hit my head and Grace is sick. We better end this and come back another time." I told the owner, who waited for us in the front of ther building with her daughter, that we couldn't do any further investigation because Grace felt ill. I told her that I would contact her at a later date. We gathered our things and left..... [You may read another excerpt at www.nancyleecanfield.com]
After many years of studying psychic phenomena, Nancy Lee Canfield (www.nancyleecanfield.com) became an expert in the field of parapsychology. Her formal education in parapsychology includes a degree from the University of Metaphysics in Los Angeles, California and accredited courses at the State University of New York at Buffalo. Canfield has also attended seminars, workshops, and lectures at various locations throughout the United States and Canada. She is the founder and director of Psychical Research Awareness Association and an associate member of The Society of Psychical Research. Canfield is also a member of The National Association of Professional Women.
I am a huge Nancy Wilson fan so just the fact that Nancy did the video required me to psuhcare it. It was great having the focus on Nancy while she chats about her music and plays guitar. It felt very Up close and personal . I loved every minute of it. However; trying to follow her instruction made me realize I am incapable of re-creating anything Nancy does on her guitar. She is just too far out of my league. I thought I was a pretty decent acoustic guitar player until I watched this video. Not even her verbal explanations and visual demonstrations enabled me to play these songs with any confidence. Because of my faith that Ms. Wilson is perfect .. the fault must lie with me.

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