The Testimony of Sister Charlotte – Murdered for Telling Horrific Story of Satanic Ritual Abuse within the Roman Catholic Church (3)
Read the second part of the article
I wonder how you would feel if this was your child. And remember, I have a mother and daddy, or had one, and they loved me just as much as you love your children. And when they let me go into the convent I’m sure my mother and daddy didn’t expect these things to happen because they didn’t know. They never dreamed a convent was like this. But, you know, I wonder how you’d feel if you could walk in someday and out there in this particular room, that floor is built for this purpose. There’s a partition right out there, and there’s just a little thing they can touch. It automatically opens, and, you know, there’s a deep hole underneath that floor and this little nun has done something. I can’t tell you what she’s done because I wasn’t there when she done it, but she’s done something, and to them it’s very serious. And when they bring her, they bring her to this particular place. Her little hands and feet are going to be bound securely. They’re going to drop her in that horrible, horrible pit, and then they’re going to put the boards back down. Oh, there’s plenty of chemical and lime down there. But, you know, they don’t do that. Six little nuns have to walk around that open hole. We’ll chant as we walk around that hole. We don’t want any evil spirits to come out into the convent, so we sprinkle holy water over that hole. We may walk for six hours and then they’ll appoint six more nuns, and on and on it goes until we hear the last moan.
And that’s the end of the little nun they placed down there. No, she’ll never be delivered from the convent, but does it bother you to know that that little nun will die and be lost? Does that bother you? It bothers me because I didn’t know Jesus, and I couldn’t tell her about God. I didn’t know Him myself. But it bothers me very, very much, but God will not hold me accountable. Her blood will not be on my hands because I didn’t know the Lord and I couldn’t tell her about Him. And so, on it goes, and I wonder how you see it.
Here we are, a body of those little nuns. On this particular morning, the mother superior might say this, “We’re all going to be lined up here.” And I don’t know what she’s lining me up for. And then, you know, there might be ten others, there might be 15 others, and then she’ll tell us all to strip and we have to take every stitch of our clothing off. We’re certainly not anything beautiful to look at. Ours eyes are back in our head. Our cheeks are fallen in. Our bodies are wasted. God only knows what we look like, because I never saw myself in 22 years. I didn’t know I had grey hair. I didn’t know I had lines in my face. I didn’t know how old I was – I only found that out about six years ago. You know nothing about what you look like.
And here we are, lined up, and here comes two or three Roman Catholic priests with liquor under their belts, and there they’re going to march in front of those nude girls and choose the girl they want to take to the cell with them. These are convents, cloistered convents, not open orders. The priest can do anything he wants to and hide behind the cloak of religion. Then that same Roman Catholic priest will go back into the Roman Catholic churches and there he’ll say mass, and there he’ll go into the confessional box and make those poor people believe he can give them absolution from their sins when he’s full of sin. When he’s full of corruption and vice, still he acts as their God. What a terrible thing it is. And on it goes.
A plot to kill
Well, I lived there. Now all the time these things are going on, what do you think is happening inside of Charlotte? God love your hearts! I didn’t know people could hold so much hatred and bitterness. And it went on and on. I was filled with bitterness and hatred, and I mean it continued to build. I began in my heart to think, “When I can get the mother superior in a certain place, I’ll kill her.” Isn’t it awful to get murder in our hearts? I didn’t go into the convent with a heart like that, nor a mind like that, but I began to plan murder in the convent, how I could kill her, and how I could kill a Roman Catholic priest. And on and on it goes. And oh, I’ll tell you, every time she’d inflict something awful on my body, that I’d have to suffer so terribly, when I could think sensibly again, then I would begin to plan: how I could kill that woman. And on it goes. Well, after all, you can’t help it. For instance, I wonder how you would feel.
The mother superior, here she is, and she’s going to sit me down in a chair. And you know that chair is straight-backed, hard-bottomed and I don’t have any hair. She’s going to take everything off my head. And you know she’s going to put my hands in stocks, and I have to bend my head over in order to put the stocks across my neck, and I’m fastened securely, and over my head there is a faucet of water. Now that mother’s going to turn that water on. Just a drop. It’ll hit me on the back of my head, and you know, I can’t move either way. I sat there one hour, two hours, three hours, four hours. What do you think’s going on? I’m sitting there. I can’t move. I do everything to get away from that drop of water in the same spot on my head. Why, God love your heart, if you could look in you’d see us frothing at the mouth. You’d see those little girls. They’re trying so hard to move to get away from that water, and they let us stay there sometimes ten hours, all day long. Many, many times a little nun cracks up completely. She goes stark raving mad under this particular penance.
What in the world do they do with her? I’ll tell you in a few minutes. Don’t you worry. They have a place for us after we go mad in the convent. They take care of us. They have places for the little nuns. There’s places built down there for us.
Well, on it goes. Well, you know, these things went on and went on and went on. And it was terrible. But, you know, I began to plan and plan and plan. After she has done something like that to me it’s terrible.
One day the mother superior took violently ill. You say, “Who would take her place?” There are about three, sometimes they have four older nuns, and they always pick the one that’s hard. The one that seemingly is carnal. That one that has no conscience to be a mother superior, and she works under this one. One day if something happens to the main mother superior, another one will take her place. And on it goes. But, you know, this particular day they sent word to me. “The mother superior,” I was to come into her room, “she’s very sick.” And quicker than lightening I began to think, “If I got in that mother superior’s room! I know what I’ll do.” You know, after all, I’m a sinner. I’m a nun, but I’m a sinner, and I don’t know God, and I have a lot of hatred in my heart, and I walk in that room. They have called in an outside Roman Catholic doctor. She’s a very sick woman, and he has left all orders, and they have left the medicine and everything. Now I’m supposed to take care of her, and that was wonderful. I do take care of her. All day long I did what they told me to do, what I’m supposed to do. And those particular tablets. I knew what they were and what they would do, and I knew what she was taking them for.
But anyway, all day long I gave her medicine. I done everything I’m supposed to. All evening long. Why? I want to be sure what I’m doing. When I do it, I have to be careful. And you know I waited until one o’clock in the morning. Why? Because every night those little nuns have to be gotten out of bed and chant from twelve to one. Seven minutes of twelve, until one. I thought I’ll wait until all the nuns go back to bed then I’m going to do something. And, bless your hearts, after they were all back in their beds, I’ll tell you what I did. I took five or six of those tables. I was only supposed to take one in a half a glass of water every so often and give it to her. But, because of the type they were and what type of tablet it was, I knew what it would do. I put six of them in a glass of water and stirred them up, and I gave them to her. I knew she would go into convulsions. It would twist her completely out of shape. I knew that woman would suffer a million deaths in 25 minutes. I knew that, and I thought, “I’m going to watch her suffer because she has punished us. She has hurt us so many thousands of times. I’ll watch her suffer.”
Isn’t it terrible to think a child can live in a place like that long enough until she has the same kind of a heart almost the mother superior has. But that’s what comes when sin gets into your life. And so I waited. You know, I gave them to her, and something happened to me. I got scared, and I began to look at that woman as she began to change colour, and I couldn’t find her pulse. I couldn’t find her respiration. I was frightened, and I thought, “Oh! What shall I do? If they find her dead, only God knows what they’ll do to me.”
I’ll tell you what I did. I got that stomach pump and pumped as quick as I could. I pumped that woman’s stomach. I massaged that woman. I done everything there was to do, and oh, thank God, she didn’t die. I said I thank God. But, you know, I sat down by the bed and held her hand and watched her carefully until the respiration came back normal, until her pulse was normal and I felt she would live.
And I thought of another thing. I’ll do this then! I saw where her keys were hid right there in her shelf in her own room. So they’re on a big chain, or a big ring, and I thought, “I’m going to take those keys. I’m going down into that dungeon.” When I say down, this is two stories under the ground. I’m going someplace where she’s always warned us. It’s a solid wall like that, and clear to the back end of that wall there’s one door, and it’s heavy, and it’s always locked, and I’ve heard her tell me scores of times (and I’m sure she has told the others) “Don’t ever try to go through that door.”
A gruesome discovery
What in the world is over there, and why did she tell us that? We can’t get through it. It’s locked! But, you know, I wondered what was back there because when they had me in the dungeon a long time once, I heard screams under the ground. I heard such blood-curdling screams, and I knew there was some girls locked up somewhere, and so I’m going through there if I find the key. And so I got her keys and I went into that particular place. And when I got back there, it took a while to do it, I want you to know, to find the key, but oh, it unlocked that door! I walked through that door, and I walked into a hall. The hall, I would say, is maybe five feet wide, maybe wider than that. That’s just a guess. Anyway, on the other side of the hall there were a number of cells over there. Small rooms, and they had real heavy doors, and in those cells were little nuns. And when I went up to the first one, near the top of the door there’s a little place about and it has iron bars going across there. And I looked right into the face of a little nun that I knew, one that I had sat across the table from, one that I had prayed with in the chapel. I knew that girl, and here she is. They had chains and a lock chained around either of her wrists and around her waistline! I said, “When did you have something to eat last?”
And no answer.
“How long have you been here?”
I went down to the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, and the stench was getting so bad I couldn’t stand it. And you know, those little girls would not talk. Why? I lived in the convent, you know, a long time. I don’t care if I was two miles under the convent, way back there we were working back there and we’d whisper. The next day I’d have to suffer because the convents are wired and the mother superior can hear every voice, every whisper, and then somebody tells, and you’re in some serious trouble. And those nuns have been there long enough. What have they done? I don’t know, but those nuns are supposed to have cracked up mentally and so they have to put them in those chains. And when they die, they can’t fall down to the floor. They just drop in those chains and slump. When they go in there, they don’t give them any more food, no more water. That’s a slow death. And so, as I saw all of that I became so sick from the terrible stench, because many of them are already dead. I don’t know how long they’ve been dead.
I came out of there and walked back up to this room where the mother superior was, and she was lying there sleeping. And I watched her there carefully, and she slept until the next day, long, long hours and didn’t waken. And when she did, she said, “I’ve had a long sleep.” And I said, “Yes.” They let me take care of her for three days, and you know, the third day – I don’t know. You say, “Did she ever find out you was down there?” Well not yet. I hope she didn’t while I was there.
A desperate plan
But anyway, after three days they put me out in the kitchen. In other words, when we go to the kitchen, six of us go for a six weeks period. And this particular time they put me out in the kitchen with five other little nuns. What am I there for? I’m doing the kitchen work. I’m going to do all of the cooking that’s done out there and take care of the work in the kitchen. And so, when I when out in the kitchen, we have a long table back here, and it’s a work table, and our vegetables will be prepared for the soup, and that’s what we were doing, all six of us. And something happened. Our kitchen is a very large room, and a very long room, not as wide as it is long, and over at one end of it you will find over here, there’s stair steps leading, about four of them leading down. Then there’s a landing right there. Over there is a big heavy outside door, but there is a landing. Our garbage cans sit there, and right here is a stairway, a cement one, leading down one story under the ground. Now, I’m up on the first floor in this kitchen.
Alright, now as I’m in there and we’re in there working something happened. Somebody touched the garbage can. You know, all my convent life we are taught never to break silence. We don’t dare to make noises in the convent. We are punished for them. And then something touched the garbage can, that’s a noise. Who in the world? There’re six of us and we’re all together. Who is touching the garbage can? I wheeled around. They wheeled around, and we saw a man, and you know that man was picking up the full can and leaving an empty one. I’ve never seen that before. I’ve been in that convent for years, and in the kitchen, but I never saw anything like that happen. I believe God had His hand on me. With all my heart I believe it. And you say, “What happened?” Well, we turned around quickly because to us it’s a mortal sin to look upon a man other than a Roman Catholic priest. And I mean we turned around quickly and went to our work. But, you know, I thought, “If that man comes back again to get another full can, I’m going to give him a note and I’m going to ask him if I can run out with him.”
But, I didn’t do that, but do you know what I did? When we run out of something in the kitchen there’s a pencil hanging up there on a chain, and bless your heart, I have to (or whoever it is that runs out), you have to write it on a tab, and of course I stole a piece of paper off of a sack, and I thought, “I’ll carry that little piece of paper in my skirt pocket, and every time I can get a hold of that pencil I’m going to write a word or two on that note.” And that’s what I did. It took quite a while to do it, but oh, I watched that garbage can! Every time I could take the garbage down there I did it. And you know, when it was just about full, and I thought, “The next evening, it’ll be full when we put all the garbage in it.”
And so, that afternoon I broke my crucifix, and I laid it up on a shelf, and I had a hard time doing it because they’re watching me. But I did it, and I laid it up on a shelf, and I did that to have a way to get back, of course. And when our dinner work is over, our supper dishes, everybody has to go out at the same time and we march by the mother superior. And, you know, when I marched by, I stopped and said, “May I speak to you?” And I did, and I said, “Mother Superior I broke my crucifix and I left it in the kitchen. May I go for it?” (And of course no nun goes without her crucifix).
And she said, “How did you break it?” I lied to her. Everything she asked me, I lied to her. You say, “Why did you lie?” She lies to us, and we’re all sinners, so we all lie, and it doesn’t make any difference in there. And so we lied, and I lied to her, and then finally she said, “You go get the crucifix and come right back.” And that’s all I wanted anyway. I have to have a reason. You can’t go back to the kitchen after you’ve left it. So I didn’t go for the crucifix, but she thought I did, and I run for this tin can. Why? That night when I put my garbage in there I put a note right on top of that garbage and left the lid off, which I was not supposed to do. And, you know, I said on the note to the garbage man, “If you get this, won’t you please help me out? Won’t you do something to help the little nuns out?” I told him about those 19 cells down there and those 19 nuns in them. I told him about some of the babies that had been killed. I told him some other little nuns that are locked up in the dungeon and they’re bound with chains. I told him plenty, and I said, “Won’t you help us? If you will, please leave a note under the empty can.” That’s what I went back for.
And when I lifted up the can and found a note, you don’t know how I felt. I froze to the floor. I was so scared I didn’t know what to do. I picked that piece of paper up and I read, and this is what that man said, “I’m leaving that door unlocked and I’ll leave the big iron gate unlocked. You come out.” Oh, let me tell you. That’s almost more than you’d ever – I never dreamed I’d get out of a convent. I never thought of ever getting out. I wanted out, but you say oh yes, when I could collect myself I reached over and turned the knob, and do you know, it opened! I walked out of that convent and I slammed it through. I was sure the lock was on it, and I got out to the big iron gate but, oh, he had me trapped. That iron gate was just as locked as it was ever locked! You don’t know what it done to me to stand looking at the iron gate. I’m locked out of the convent. I have no right out there. You can’t imagine. I don’t know if I groaned right there. I don’t know. I know I’ve suffered enough because I’m scared half to death. And what will I do if I go back there and pound on that door? What will they do with me? And, oh, the fear that grips your heart. And you say, “What did you do?”
I didn’t have any shoes and stockings on. I had worn those out years ago. When I think of the Roman Catholic Church being the richest church in the world and they let those little nuns go winter and summer without any shoes and without any hose, living in crucial poverty, I wonder how they can do it! Hungry as we are, their priests are all nice and fat. The little nuns are so hungry I wonder how they do it sometimes. You say, “What did you do, Charlotte?” Well, I’ll tell you, I just took a hold of that big iron gate, and I tried to climb it. That’s all there was for me to do. And up about a foot and a half from the top there’s a ledge about six inches wide. I thought if I could get high enough to get my knee on the ledge I’m safe. And I did. I got one knee on the ledge, but by this time I don’t have any strength left either. And you know, I thought, “What’ll I do? I’ll put one foot over, then I’ll get the other over.” Then I realized I have three skirts on. My skirts are gathered on a belt and they’re clear down to my ankles. My veil, of course is down to my knees in front and that long in the back. How will I ever get over those sharp points? And I thought, “I can’t go down, I don’t have strength enough, so I’ll have to jump.” And if I jump I’ll break every bone because I was a broken body, of course. And so I thought, “What’ll I do?” Well I pulled all of my clothing up around my body and held them with one hand, and then I thought, “I’ll have to jump.”
And you know, they have a buzzer in the convent, and when a little nun tries to escape to catch her they put a buzzer on. And, oh, the priests tell you they don’t come to the convent, I wish you could see the priests then. You’ll find a good many of them there, and they immediately are after that nun. They don’t want her out. If she comes out of that convent, she’s going to give a testimony someday, and it’ll pull the cloak off of convents. And I’ll assure you they don’t intend for us to get out.
And so, as I let loose of that top of that gate and I made that jump, I just didn’t make it. My clothing caught on top of those points and I hung there, but I let loose. And I often say I don’t know what I looked like. I didn’t know I had grey hair, but I’ve often said, “Maybe my hair turned grey there.” Maybe you’ll never know what I suffered hanging there on top of that gate, knowing that buzzer could go on any minute and then what would they do to me? I was scared. So I thought I’d try to wiggle my body and to force swing it if I can get back far enough to grab the gate with one hand maybe I can help myself. And I did. And then with the other hand I tried to pry the snappers loose on my skirt, and that let me fall between them. Do you know what happened to me? I hit the ground. I was out. I was unconscious for a while. I don’t know how long though, we have no way to tell. But when I came to, I had a shoulder broken and my arm was broken. The bone had snapped right through my flesh because I didn’t have any meat on me.
And I thought, “What’ll I do?” And I realized I’m on the outside. “Where am I going?” Where do you think you’d go? I’m not in the United States. I’m in another country and I don’t know a thing about that country. When they took me over there I was so heavily veiled and they took me from that particular train to the convent, I was so heavily veiled I couldn’t see anything. And I don’t know where I am. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know if I have any people. I don’t know if I know anybody in the world. And I’m a pauper. I don’t have any money, and I’m hungry, and my body’s broken, and I’m hurt now. Where do you think you’d go? I tell you. It’s something to think about. I just started away. But get away from the convent! And I did. I started moving away.
All the leaves were falling and they made so much noise! And I was scared, and I kept on moving, and finally dark overtook me, or rather, there’s no twilight in that part of the country – it just drops off into darkness. And, you know, I saw this little building beside the road. I thought, “I’ll crawl in it.” It was a doghouse or maybe a chicken coop or something. But it’s dirty and I crawled in there because I was shaking and scared. And I lay in there a little while to get a hold of myself, and I thought, “I’ll have to travel, it’s dark. It’s safer for me.” So I got out and I travelled that night and the next day. I hid behind pieces of board and tin that was piled up against an old building. And all day long, imagine, hiding in that hot place! And hungry as I was, with broken bones, do you realize what it was all about? No. You will never know. But I do.
And then, you know, when night came again I have to go because I’m going to get away from the convent. I’m afraid to rap on somebody’s door. Remember, I’m scared. I don’t know, I might rap on a Roman Catholic’s door. They’ll immediately notify the priests and I’ll be taken back to the convent. And I’d rather they kill me than take me back. And so I didn’t knock, but I went on and on and on. And then the next night I hid out in an old bag. And then, that afternoon on the third day, I was scared then because this arm was swollen as tight as it could swell and I was having to carry it in the other hand. And all my fingers began to turn blue, and I realized gangrene poisoning was setting in. And, you know, there’s nobody to do anything for you. And I realized I’m going to die just like a rat beside the road. That’s a terrible feeling, and I thought, “What’ll I do? I’ll just get out and go die a little sooner. I’ll just have to rap on somebody’s door.” And that’s what I did.
I remember as I walked, I saw this lamp. It was an old fashioned lamp, burning. Very poor house, no paint on it, and I knew those were poor people. So I walked up to the screen door and I rapped on it, and a tall man came to the door. He was rather old. And I said, “Please, may I have a drink of water.” And you know, that old man didn’t answer me, but he walked back in the house, and he called his wife. And, God bless her heart, she’s like most old-fashioned mothers. She came to the door, and she didn’t say “Who are you and what do you want?”. Thank God there are a lot of good people in this world. That dear little woman just pushed that door open and said, “Won’t you come in and sit down?”. Do you know that’s the most beautiful music I ever heard in my life? I should say I’ll come in and sit down! And she pulled out a chair, and I sat down on it. I’m glad to sit down.
And you know, she’s poor. There’re no rugs on the floor of any type, red-chickened tablecloth on the table, a little old stove over there in the corner, and there was a fire in it. And that woman put some milk in a pan and heated it and brought it over to me. And, you know, I’m hungry. I don’t have any manners. I forgot how to act. I forgot a lot of things in 22 years. And I grabbed that glass of milk before she ever sat it down, and I gobbled it down. I’m so hungry, I felt like I’m going stark mad. And I took it instantly, and the moment it touched my stomach, of course I couldn’t retain it. I lost it. I haven’t had any whole milk in 22 years. You could understand why I couldn’t take it. And she knew what to do. She went out into the kitchen and she heated some water, or rather over to the stove and heated some water. And bless her heart, she put some sugar in that water, and she brought it over to me, and she sat down and gave it to me from a spoon. I took every bit of it. Oh, it was good! It was nourishing.
And then the daddy walked over by me and he said, “Now tell us who you are and where you come from” I began to cry. I was scared then. I said, “I’ve run away from the convent and I’m not going back.” And he said, “What happened to you?” And my hand was laying upon the table. And I said, “Well, I tried to get over the gate and I fell, and I’m hurt.”
And, you know, he said, “We’ll have to call a doctor.” And bless your sweet life, then, I really became hysterical. I got up from the table, I was going to run back outside, and they wouldn’t let me. He said, “Wait a minute. We’re not going to hurt you. You’re hurt. You have to have help.”
I said, “I don’t have any money, and I don’t have any people, and I can’t pay a doctor bill.” I was just in a terrible mess if you want to know it. And that man said to me, “I’m going after a doctor.” He said, “And he’s not a Roman Catholic, and neither am I.” And that dear man didn’t have a car, but he hitched up a horse and buggy and he drove nine miles to get a doctor. The doctor came out in his car, and when he got to the place, he got there ahead of the man. And when the doctor walked in and walked around me, he just kept walking around me and he was swearing. (Maybe he didn’t realize it was a terrible effect upon me). When he stopped and looked at me, of course he was mad. He was mad. Why was he mad? He was mad because he was looking at something that was supposed to be a human being, and I didn’t even look like a human being I was in such a horrible condition.
But finally he calmed down and he came over to me and he said, “I’ll have to take you to the hospital tonight.” Oh, I became hysterical. I said, “I don’t want to go. Please don’t make me go!” Then he sat down carefully and took my hand and he began to say, “I’m not going to hurt you. You have to have help, and I want to help you.”
That doctor took me into the hospital that night and that’s where I learned how much I weighed. He weighed me and I weighed exactly 89 pounds [40.5 kg]. I weigh 178 [81 kg] right now. And they, you know, they took me into surgery, and of course they tried to get the swelling and the inflammation out of my hand and arm [so] that they might do something for me. It took about 12 or 13 days. By this time it started to knit and they had to break it all over again and put it in a cast. I did a lot of suffering.
Well, you know, one day it was made for me to be released from the hospital. Who did they release me to? I begged to go out to those old people to stay with them, and they let me go, because they had been good to me and I trusted them. And the doctor wanted to take me out to his home. I was in that hospital three and a half months. And they took me out there [to the old folks] and I stayed for a period of time. And then one day this same doctor, he wrote a letter and, do you know what he sent in that letter? He sent a check. He told the people to go and buy me a suitcase and get me some clothing. He was coming for me on a certain day.
He told me, “I’m going to find your people for you.” You know that doctor is a stranger to me, but oh, how I thank God that he has men and women across this world and those men and women are not so selfish that they won’t use some of the money that God has allowed them to have to help that one that’s less fortunate than they. Here, he spent a lot of money on me. I was in that hospital three and a half months, and I mean there was a lot of money spent on me, but he paid the bills.
How I appreciate it! And you know, that dear doctor, oh they took me, bought my clothing for me, bought my suitcase and everything was ready and the day came when he come, and you know, that doctor took me to the train. And he put me on a train in care of somebody, of course. He had found my people for me. I was on busses and trains and boats for a long time, and one day, after he had gotten my visa for me to get back into the United States, and I was always in the charge of somebody because they didn’t trust me to travel alone because of having to live under the ground so long.
Home at last
And one day they called the name of a town where I was, or where my mother and daddy lived. And you know I knew where mother and daddy lived and I got off of that train and I run down to their home, five blocks from that depot, just a very small town. And when I rang the bell, my daddy came to the door, and you know, I looked at his face, I didn’t know him. And because I didn’t know him I said, “Do you know where my father lives?”
And he said, “Who are you, and what’s your name?”
And I said my name, and I didn’t give him my church name, I gave him my family name. And that man looked at me, and of course it was his name, and he said, “Hooky, is this you?” My father didn’t know me, of course it was my dad, and that dear old man opened the door then and invited me in, and I said, “Dad, is Mother alive?” because I didn’t know about her. And he took me back in to see her and there she was. Seven and a half years she’s laid there, an invalid. A horrible, horrible invalid. And of course she didn’t know me and I didn’t know her.
Well, you know, that very night I took violently sick and they put me back in another hospital for another three months, but my father paid all of those bills. He reimbursed the doctor and paid the doctor in another country and paid the old people. He reimbursed them all. All of that was wonderful, and then, you know, one day after my body was strong enough since I’m here in the United States (oh, it took a long time, several years), I’m a nurse, and I took the examination to nurse. And do you know what God did? He let a woman come into that particular hospital. It was a Roman Catholic hospital.
This woman was a Church of God minister. She came in, and I thought, “How strange!” Just across the Mississippi River there are two magnificent Protestant hospitals, and she lives in one of those cities. Right there, three cities joined together. And why in the world did she come over here to this Roman Catholic hospital? Why? I believe God had his hand on it all the time. You know that woman came in and the doctor said, “I want you to… [indistinguishable] her case,” and I went in to prepare that woman for the operating table, and I heard her pray, and I want you to know, I became that woman’s private nurse, her special nurse.
After she left the hospital she went home, and I became her special nurse in the home, and that woman asked if I wouldn’t go to church with her. And you know I lived in her home long enough to hear her pray. I lived in that home long enough to read the Bible to her because I’m her nurse and I did what she told me to. I had never read a Bible before in all of my life and she’d have to find the scriptures, and then I’d read them to her. And, you know, as I read the word of God, then God began to get a hold of me. And finally she said, “Won’t you go to church with me,” and I went to church with that woman, and I sat back there and I heard the gospel for the first time in my life. And you know, I’ll tell you, I went through four nights, and it was really beautiful. I’ve never heard anything like this. And all the time she was telling me about the plan of salvation, telling me about God, and that I needed God, and I needed to be saved. And, of course, I was believing her.
Do you know what I’d do every night? I go from church with that woman, and I’d say, “You go to bed, but let me go to the basement.” I’d lay my Bible down on the chair, and there I’d challenge God, and I’d say, “God, did you hear what the preacher said? Did you hear it, God?” And then I would tell God everything I could remember that the preacher said. I said, “God, you heard every word, didn’t you? Now, if you are God and the Bible is the word of God, God you’re real! I want what those people have. But, if you’re not God, and the word of God is not your word, then God, please don’t give to me what those people have.” Let me tell you, I challenged God. I put Him to a test. God’s not going to give you anything that’s not of God. Don’t you worry.
And every night I continued to do that, four or five nights. And I didn’t eat either. I couldn’t sleep and I had lost my appetite and I was losing a lot of weight. It was terrific! But you know, one night I come back to church and out of a clear blue sky, right in the middle of that man’s service I just got out of my seat, and with both hands straight up in the air I come running right straight down an aisle. And I fell in at that altar and I cried out, “My God, forgive me for all my sins!”. I was a sinner. I mean God met me there. Praise His wonderful name. There was a pool of water on that floor. I was sorry for everything that I had did in that convent. I stole potato peelings. I stole bread. I told lies. I called the mother superior names under my breath. And I want you to know, God met me down there and he forgave me of every sin that there was in my life. And how I thank and praise Him for it! Praise His wonderful name. God has been very good to me… very good to me.
A few nights subsequent to that, I went back to church. God healed me with the baptism of the Holy Ghost. May I say to you, God means more to me than all the material wealth you have in this city. I’d rather have Jesus than anything you might have, because I’ve found Him to be the best friend I’ve ever known. I can tell Him anything I want to tell Him, and He won’t call you up and tell you what I’ve told Him. I can sit at his feet and tell Him every day of my life, “Jesus, I love you. Jesus, I love you.” And every secret of my heart, I can pour out to Him. And I don’t worry about Him calling you up and telling you what I told Him. He’s the best friend you ever had. He’s able to save you. He’s able to deliver you. He’s able to loose you from the things of this world and set you free to know him. Praise his name. I have a wonderful God. I love Him supremely. I’d rather have Jesus than anything that you might have. God is real in my life. Really wonderful, how God delivered me out of the convent. Pray for me. I need much prayer. I’ll be going places where it’s predominantly Roman Catholic. I’ll have to suffer much, but I’m willing to suffer for Jesus that I might tell someone about Him and give my testimonies that other little girls might be spared from convents. So pray for me, won’t you?”
September 7, 2017