Giving constant thoughts of my time in Vasto, Italy, 1945, at seven years old, I always ventured in part of Vasto town. I saw not a single person or activity. Eventually, I made my way toward a large body of water, much later known to me as Adriatic Sea. I stood there, still saw no one or activity, not a single ship or vessel. I knew nothing of World War II. Then the war either still active or about to end. As I was about to go backward, metal wheels alerted me that I would finally see someone. Scooter Boy, about my age, stopped in front of me. We spoke, but it led nowhere. I never saw him…mehr
Giving constant thoughts of my time in Vasto, Italy, 1945, at seven years old, I always ventured in part of Vasto town. I saw not a single person or activity. Eventually, I made my way toward a large body of water, much later known to me as Adriatic Sea. I stood there, still saw no one or activity, not a single ship or vessel. I knew nothing of World War II. Then the war either still active or about to end. As I was about to go backward, metal wheels alerted me that I would finally see someone. Scooter Boy, about my age, stopped in front of me. We spoke, but it led nowhere. I never saw him again. I was alone again. The scooter boy and I spoke a foreign language-English. I didn't know that I shouldn't speak English. It would be my only language ever. On my own, I was always barefoot but never felt any discomfort and never gave it a thought. I never ate anything, never had an appetite, and thus never had a toilet break. I didn't know anything of a toilet. I proceeded on without normal sense. My time in Vasto was always a sunny day. A drop of rain had never fallen on me. All per¿divine power. Then I didn't know it but had my suspicions. Now when I think of the Adriatic Sea, I don't see just an empty large body of water. Now I know of a violent world of a time gone by. I'm totally aware of the horror of the mass murder of men, women, and children in most of the countries across where I had stood looking out at an empty sea.Hinweis: Dieser Artikel kann nur an eine deutsche Lieferadresse ausgeliefert werden.
My name is Patrick Ricchiuti, born "Pasquale". It's in the book. I was born in 1938 in a small fishing village of Vasto, Italy, on the edge of the Adriatic Sea. My time there was always about me and an unknown Power. Yes, an unknown Power and me. In 1945 seven years after being born I opened my eyes for the first time being without any knowledge of my past seven years. included close-by were two women. The older woman, dressed in black she continued with a nasty look at me. My thought was that i had done something wrong and deserved it. The two women would turned out to be my Mother and Grandma. The lone man in the house would be my uncle as it turned out he hated me the most. My only desire was to leave the confines of my room for the outdoors. Unknown to me World War 2 still raged. I experiences only illusions of the war per the DIVINE. The war meant nothing to me, as I never actually experienced its noise, smell or sight. It was never explained to me the goings on of the War. No doubt the war included my town of Vasto and in the Adriatic Sea. I had mental adult knowledge, more than my seven years. One day, I was awakened by intense glitter upon my eyes that seemingly came from a crack in a nearby old door. Awakened, before leaving my room for outside I looked for shoes but there were none. Walking barefoot would not be a problem for me. It would just be part of being without normal senses or needs. I would never try and explain to anyone any of my many "Illusions". My association with The DIVINE Power was always within me as I wrote "Designed Illusions" all the chapters came easily too. Mom and I came by ship to America in 1946. It was at end of World War 2 but, I still didn't know that war had actually ended. I was then about eight years old. The "Ship" was also a trip of Designed Illusions, as mom slept on in the ship. Anyone who I spoke, understood and heard only one language- English, It all came about without any training or schooling. Of course, only per DIVINE. It was a help for me once in America, Then, reunited with my father, whom I didn't remember. My father left Italy for America about five years earlier in my life, to answer America's call to arms (drafted). It would be less than a joyful reunion for me, and dad. A negative son and father relationship didn't matter much to me. Many episodes of me alone per the DIVINE Power would forever haunt me. "Designed Illusions Via Divine Power" would be continuous.
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