Letter from beyond ... "TRUE" and extraordinary

IMPRIMATUR
And Vicariatu Urbis, die 9 aprilis 1952

Aloysius Traglia
archiep. Caesarien. Vicesgerens

Clara and Annetta, very young, worked in a commercial company in *** (Germany).
They were not linked by deep friendship, but by simple courtesy. They worked side by side every day and an exchange of ideas could not be missing. Clara declared herself openly religious and felt the duty to instruct and recall Annetta, when she proved to be light and superficial in terms of religion.
They spent some time together; then Annetta contracted marriage and left the company. In the autumn of that year. Clara spent her holidays on the shores of Lake Garda. In mid-September, Mum sent her a letter from her native country: «Annetta died. She was the victim of a car accident. They buried her yesterday in the "Waldfriedhof" ».
The news frightened the good young lady, knowing that her friend had not been so religious. - Was she prepared to present herself before God? ... Dying suddenly, how did she find herself? ... -
The next day he listened to Holy Mass and also made Communion in his suffrage, praying fervently. The night, ten minutes after midnight, the vision took place ...

"Clara. don't pray for me! I'm damned! If I tell you and I tell you about it quite long. do not believe that this is done as a friendship. We no longer love anyone here. I do it as forced. I do it as "part of that power that always wants evil and does good."
In truth I would also like to see you land in this state, where I have now dropped my anchor forever.
Don't get angry with this intention. Here, we all think so. Our will is petrified in evil in what you precisely call "evil" -. Even when we do something "good", as I am now opening my eyes to Hell, this does not happen with good intention.
Do you still remember that four years ago we met at **** You were then 23 years old and you were already there for half a year when I got there.
You took me out of some trouble; as a beginner, you gave me good addresses. But what does "good" mean?
I praised your "love of neighbor". Ridiculous! Your relief came from pure coquetry, as, moreover, I had already suspected since then. We don't know anything good here. In none.
You know the time of my youth. I fill certain gaps here.
According to my parents' plan, to tell the truth, I shouldn't even have existed. "It was just a misfortune for them." My two sisters were already 14 and 15 years old, when I tended to light.
I had never existed! I could now annihilate myself, escape these torments! No voluptuousness would match that with which I would leave my existence; like an ash suit, lost in nothing.
But I must exist. I must exist like this, as I made myself: with a failed existence.
When dad and mom, still young, moved from the countryside to the city, both had lost contact with the Church. And it was better this way.
They sympathized with people not related to the Church. They met in a dancing meeting and half a year later they "had to" get married.
During the wedding ceremony, a lot of holy water remained attached to them, which the mother went to church for Sunday Mass a couple of times a year. He never taught me to really pray. He was exhausted in the daily care of life, although our situation was not uncomfortable.
Words, such as Mass, religious education, Church, I say them with an unequaled internal repugnance. I abhor all this, as I hate those who attend the Church and in general all men and all things.

I hate God

From everything, in fact, there comes torment. Every knowledge received at the point of death, every memory of things lived or known, is for us a prickly flame.
And all the memories show us that side which in them was grace and which we despised. What torment is this! We don't eat, don't sleep, don't walk with our feet. Spiritually chained, we look dazed "with screams and grinding teeth" our life gone up in smoke: hating and tormented!
Do you hear? Here we drink hatred like water. Also towards each other.
Above all we hate God, I want to make it understandable.
The Blessed in Heaven must love him, because they see him without a veil, in his dazzling beauty. This beatifies them so much that they cannot be described. We know it and this knowledge makes us furious.
Men on earth, who know God from creation and revelation, can love him; but they are not forced to.
The believer - I say gritting his teeth - who, meditatively, contemplates Christ on the cross, with his arms stretched out, will end up loving him.
But he, to whom God approaches only in the hurricane, as a punisher, as a just avenger, because one day he was repudiated by him, as happened to us. He can only hate him, with all the impetus of his evil will, eternally, by virtue of the free acceptance with which, by dying, we exhaled our soul and that even now we withdraw and we will never have the will to withdraw it.
Do you understand now why Hell lasts forever? Because our obstinacy will never melt away from us.
Forced, I add that God is merciful even to us. I say "forced", because even if I say these things deliberately, I am not allowed to lie, as I would like to. I affirm many things against my will. I also have to throttle the heat of abuse, which I would like to vomit.
God was merciful to us by not letting our evil will run out on earth, as we would have been ready to do. This would have increased our sins and pains. In fact, he killed us time, like me, or made other mitigating circumstances intervene.
Now he shows mercy towards us by not forcing us to come closer to him than we are in this remote hellish place; this lessens the torment.
Each step that would bring me closer to God would cause me a greater pain than that which would bring you a step closer to a burning stake.
You got scared, when I once, during the walk, I told you that my father, a few days before your first Communion, had said to me: "Annettina, try to deserve a nice dress: the rest is a frame".
To your fright I would almost have even been ashamed. Now I laugh about it.
The only reasonable thing in that frame was that we were admitted to Communion only at twelve years of age. At the time, I was quite taken by the craze of worldly entertainment, so I unscrupulously put religious things into a song and I did not attach great importance to First Communion.
That several children are now going to Communion at the age of seven, makes us furious. We do everything we can to make people understand that children lack adequate knowledge. They must first commit some mortal sins.
Then the white Particle no longer does much harm in them, as when faith, hope and charity still live in their hearts - puh! this stuff - received in Baptism. Do you remember how he already supported this opinion on earth?
I mentioned my father. He was often in dispute with mom. I alluded to it only rarely; I was ashamed of it. What a ridiculous shame of evil! For us here everything is the same.
My parents didn't even sleep in the same room anymore; but I with mum and dad in the adjoining room, where he could come home freely at any time. He drank a lot; in this way he squandered our heritage. My sisters were both employed and they themselves needed, they said, the money they earned. Mom started working to earn something.
During the last year of his life, dad often beat his mom when she didn't want to give him anything. To me, however, he was always loving. One day - I told you about it and you, then, you bumped into my whim (what did you not bother about me?) - one day he had to bring back, twice, the shoes bought, because the shape and heels were not modern enough for me.
On the night my father was struck by a deadly apoplexy, something happened that I, for fear of a disgusting interpretation, could not confide in you. But now you need to know. It is important for this: then for the first time I was attacked by my current tormenting spirit.
I slept in a room with my mother: her regular breaths said her deep sleep.
When I hear myself called by name.
An unknown voice tells me: “What will it be if Dad dies?

Love in souls in a state of grace

I no longer loved my father, since he treated his mother so rudely; as after all I didn't love absolutely anyone since then, but I was only, fond of some people. who were good to me. The hopeless love of earthly exchange lives only in souls in a state of grace. And I wasn't.
So I answered the mysterious question. Without realizing where it came from: "But it doesn't die!"
After a short pause, the same clearly perceived question again. "But don't die!" he ran away from me again, abruptly.
For the third time I was asked: "What will it be if your father dies?". It occurred to me how daddy often came home quite drunk, rattled, mistreated mom and how he put us in a humiliating condition in front of people. So I cried out in annoyance: "It suits him!" Then everything went silent. The next morning, when Mum wanted to put Father's room in order, she found the door locked. Around midday the door was forced. My father, half-dressed, lay dead on the bed. When he went to get the beer in the cellar, some accident must have happened. It had been sickly for a long time.
Marta K ... and you led me to join the Youth Association. Actually, I never hid that I found the instructions of the two directors, ladies X, to be in tune with parish fashion ...
The games were fun. As you know, I had a direct part in it. This suited me.
I also liked the trips. I even let myself be led a few times to go to Confession and Communion.
Actually, I had nothing to confess. Thoughts and speeches didn't matter to me. For more gross actions, I was not corrupt enough.
You admonished me once: "Anna, if you don't pray, go to perdition!".
I prayed very little and this too, only listlessly.
Then you were unfortunately right. All those who burn in Hell have not prayed or have not prayed enough.

THE FIRST STEP TOWARDS GOD

Prayer is the first step towards God. And it remains the decisive step. Especially the prayer to She who was Mother of Christ - the name of which we never mention.
Devotion to her snatches countless souls from the devil, which sin would infallibly hand over to him.
I continue the story, consuming myself with anger. It's only because I have to. Praying is the easiest thing man can do on earth. And it is precisely to this very easy thing that God has tied everyone's salvation.
To those who pray with perseverance, He gradually gives so much light, fortifies him in such a way that in the end even the most bogged down sinner can definitely get up again. It was also flooded in the slime up to the neck.
In the last times of my life I no longer prayed as I should and I deprived myself of the graces, without which no one can be saved.
Here we no longer receive any grace. Indeed, even if we received them, we would cynically reject them. All the fluctuations of earthly existence have ceased in this other life.
From you on earth man can rise from the state of sin to the state of Grace and from Grace fall into sin, often out of weakness, sometimes out of malice.
With death this rising and falling ends, because it has its root in the imperfection of earthly man. We have now reached the final state.
Already as the years go by, changes become rarer. It is true, until death you can always turn to God or turn your back on him. Yet, almost carried away by the current, the man, before his passing, with the last weak remnants of the will, behaves as he was used to in life.
Custom, good or bad, becomes second nature. This drags him along.
This also happened to me. For years I had lived far from God. This is why in the last call of Grace I resolved myself against God.
It wasn't the fact that I often sinned that was fatal to me, but that I didn't want to rise again.
You have repeatedly warned me to listen to the sermons, to read books of piety.
"I don't have time," was my ordinary answer. We needed nothing more to increase my internal uncertainty!
Moreover, I must note this: since it was now so advanced, shortly before my exit from the Youth Association, it would have been enormously difficult for me to put myself on another path. I felt uneasy and unhappy. But a wall stood before the conversion.
You must not have suspected it. You represented it so simple, when one day you said to me: "But make a good confession, Anna, and everything is fine."
I felt it would be like this. But the world, the devil, the flesh already held me too firmly in their claws.

THE DEMON INFLUENCES PEOPLE

I never believed the influence of the devil. And now I testify that he has a strong influence on people who were in the condition I was in then.
Only many prayers, of others and of myself, combined with sacrifices and sufferings, could have snatched me from him. And this too, little by little. If there are few obsessed on the outside, there is an anthill on the inside. The devil cannot abduct the free will of those who give themselves over to his influence. But in pain of their, so to speak, methodical apostasy from God, he allows the "evil one" to nest in them.
I also hate the devil. Yet I like him, because he tries to ruin the rest of you; I hate him and his satellites, the spirits who fell with him at the beginning of time.
They are counted in the millions. They wander the earth, dense as a swarm of midges, and you don't even notice it.
It is not for us to try again to tempt you; this is the office of fallen spirits.
This really increases the torment every time they drag a human soul down here to the Infirm. But what doesn't hate do?
Although I walked on paths far from God, God followed me.
I prepared the way to Grace with acts of natural charity, which I often did by inclination of my temperament.
Sometimes God attracted me to a church. Back then I felt like a nostalgia. When I treated the sick mother, despite the office work during the day, and in some way I really sacrificed myself, these enticements of God acted powerfully.
Once, in the church of the hospital, where you had led me during the midday break, something came upon me that would have been a single step for my conversion: I cried!
But then the joy of the world passed again like a stream over Grace.
The wheat choked between the thorns.
THE LAST REFUSAL
With the declaration that religion is a matter of sentiment, as was always said in the office, I also trashed this invitation of Grace like everyone else.
Once you reproached me because instead of a genuflection down to the ground, I just made a shapeless bow, bending my knee. You considered it an act of laziness. You didn't even seem to suspect
that since then I no longer believed in the presence of Christ in the sacrament.
Now I believe it, but only naturally, as we believe in a storm whose effects can be seen.
In the meantime, I had made myself a religion in my own way.
I supported the view, which was common in the office, that the soul after death rises again into another being. In this way he would continue to pilgrim endlessly.
With this the anguished question of the afterlife was at once put in place and made harmless to me.
Why did you not remind me of the parable of the rich man and the poor Lazarus, in which the narrator, Christ, sends, immediately after death, one to Hell and the other to Heaven? ... Besides, what would you have obtained? Nothing more than with your other bigotry talks!
Gradually I created myself a God; sufficiently gifted to be called God; far enough away from me that I don't have to maintain any relationship with him; I am vague enough to allow myself, according to need, without changing my religion, to compare to a pantheistic god of the world, or to allow myself to be poetized as a solitary god. This God had no Hell to inflict on me. I left him alone. This was my adoration for him.
What pleases is believed willingly. Over the years I kept myself fairly convinced of my religion. This way you could live.
Only one thing would have broken my neck: a long, deep pain. And this pain did not come!
Now understand what it means: "God chastises those he loves!"
It was a Sunday in July, when the Youth Association organized a trip to * * *. I would have liked the tour. But these silly speeches, that bigoted act!
Another simulacrum quite different from that of the Madonna of * * * recently stood on the altar of my heart. The handsome Max N… from the adjoining shop. We had joked together several times before.
Just for that Sunday he had invited me on a trip. The one she usually went with was lying sick in the hospital.
He understood well that I had set my eyes on him. I didn't think about marrying him then. He was comfortable, but he behaved too kindly with all the girls. And I, until then, wanted a man who belonged only to me. Not just being a wife, but an only wife. In fact, I always had a certain natural etiquette.
In the aforementioned tour Max lavished himself on kindness. Eh! yeah, no pretense conversations were held as between you!

GOD "WEIGHS" WITH PRECISION

The next day, in the office, you reproached me for not having come with you to ***. I described to you my fun on that Sunday.
Your first question was: "Have you been to Mass?". Silly! How could I, given that the departure was already set for six ?!
You still know how excitedly I added: "The good Lord does not have a mentality as small as your pretaces!".
Now I must confess: God, despite his infinite goodness, weighs things with greater precision than all priests.
After that day with Max, I came once more to the Association: at Christmas, for the celebration of the party. There was something that enticed me to return. But internally I had already moved away from you.
Cinema, dance, trips went on and on. Max and I quarreled a few times, but I knew how to chain him back to me.
Molestissirna succeeded me in the other lover, who returned from the hospital and behaved like an obsessed woman. Luckily for me: since my noble calm made a powerful impression on Max, I ended up deciding that I was my favorite.
I had been able to make him hateful, speaking coldly: on the outside positive, on the inside spewing poison. Such feelings and such demeanor prepare excellently for Hell. They are diabolical in the strictest sense of the word.
Why am I telling you this? To report how I definitively detached myself from God.
After all, not that Max and I had often reached the extremes of familiarity. I understood that I would have lowered myself to her eyes if I had let myself go completely ahead of time; therefore I was able to hold back.

But in itself, whenever I thought it useful, I was always ready for anything. I had to win Max. Nothing was too expensive for that. Furthermore, little by little, we loved each other by possessing both not a few precious qualities, which made us esteem each other. I was skilled, capable, of pleasant company. So I firmly held Max in my hand and managed, at least in the last few months before the wedding, to be the only one to own it.

"I CONSIDERED CATHOLIC ..."

This consisted of my apostasy to God: to raise a creature to my idol. In no way can this happen, so that it embraces everything, as in the love of a person of the opposite sex, when this love remains stranded in earthly satisfactions.
This is what forms its attraction. its stimulus and its poison.
The "adoration", which I paid to myself in the person of Max, became a lived religion for me.
It was the time when in the office I poisoned myself against church churches, priests, indulgences, the muttering of rosaries and similar nonsense.
You have tried, more or less wisely, to defend these things. Apparently, without suspecting that in the most intimate of me it was not really about these things, I was looking for a support against my conscience then I needed such support to justify my apostasy also with the reason.
After all, I turned against God. You did not understand him; I still considered myself Catholic. Indeed, I wanted to be called that; I even paid ecclesiastical taxes. A certain "counter-insurance", I thought, could not harm.
Your answers may have hit the mark sometimes. They didn't hold on to me, because you didn't have to be right.
Because of these distorted relationships between the two of us, the pain of our detachment was petty when we separated on the occasion of my marriage.
Before the wedding I confessed and communicated once again. It was prescribed. my husband and I thought the same on this point. Why shouldn't we have done this formality? We too completed it like the other formalities.
You call such an Communion unworthy. Well, after that "unworthy" Communion, I was more calm in my conscience. Moreover, it was also the last.
Our married life was generally in great harmony. On all points of view we were of the same opinion. Even in this: that we did not want to bear the burden of the children. Actually my husband would have gladly wanted one; no more, of course. In the end I was able to divert him from this desire too.
Clothes, luxury furniture, tea hangouts, car rides and trips and such distractions mattered to me more.
It was a year of pleasure on earth that passed between my wedding and my sudden death.
We went out by car every Sunday, or visited my husband's relatives. They floated on the surface of existence, neither more nor less than us.
Internally, of course, I never felt happy, however externally I laughed. There was always something indeterminate inside me that was gnawing at me. I wished that after death, which of course must still be very far away, everything was over.
But it is just like that, as one day, as a child, I heard in a sermon: that God rewards every good work that one does and when he cannot reward it in the other life, he will do it on earth.
Unexpectedly I had an inheritance from Aunt Lotte. My husband happily managed to bring his salary to a substantial sum. So I was able to arrange the new home in an attractive way.
Religion no longer sent its voice, dull, weak and uncertain, from afar.
The city's cafes, hotels, where we went on trips, certainly didn't bring us to God.
All those who frequented those places lived, like us, from outside to inside, not from inside to outside.
If during the holidays we visited some church, we tried to recreate ourselves in the artistic content of the works. The religious breath that expired, especially the medieval ones, I knew how to neutralize it by criticizing some accessory circumstance: a clumsy converse friar or dressed in an unclean way, who acted as a guide; the scandal that monks, who wanted to pass for pious, sold liquor; the eternal bell for the sacred functions, while it is a question of making money ...
THE FIRE OF HELL
So I was able to drive Grace away from me every time he knocked.
I gave free rein to my bad mood in particular on certain medieval representations of Hell in cemeteries or elsewhere. in which the devil roasts souls in red and incandescent breeches, while his companions, with long tails, drag him new victims. Clara! Hell can be wrong to draw it, but it never goes too far!
I have always targeted the fire of Hell in a special way. You know it like during an altercation about it. I once held a match under my nose and said sarcastically: "Does it smell like this?".
You quickly put out the flame. Here nobody turns it off. I tell you: the fire mentioned in the Bible does not mean torment of conscience. Fire is fire! it is to be understood literally what He said: "Get away from me, cursed, into eternal fire!". Literally.
"How can the spirit be touched by material fire," you will ask. How can your soul suffer on earth when you put your finger on the flame? In fact it does not burn the soul; yet what torment the whole individual feels!
In a similar way we are spiritually related to fire here, according to our nature and according to our faculties. Our soul is devoid of its natural flapping wing, we cannot think what we want or how we want.
Don't be surprised by these words of mine. This state, which tells you nothing, burns me without consuming me.
Our greatest torment consists in knowing with certainty that we will never see God.
How can this torment so much, since one on earth remains so indifferent?
As long as the knife lies on the table, it leaves you cold. You see how sharp it is, but you don't feel it. Dip the knife in the meat and you will start screaming in pain.
Now we feel the loss of God, before we only thought it.
Not all souls suffer equally.
With how much more evil and the more systematically one has sinned, the more serious the loss of God weighs on him and the more the creature he has abused suffocates him.
Damned Catholics suffer more than those of other religions, because they mostly received and trampled more graces and more light.
Those who knew more, suffer more severely than those who knew less. Those who sinned through malice suffer more acutely than those who fell from weakness.
HABIT: A SECOND NATURE
Nobody ever suffers more than he deserved. Oh, if this were not true, I would have a reason to hate!
You told me one day that nobody goes to Hell without knowing it: this would have been revealed to a saint. I laughed at it. But then you will trench me behind this statement:
"So if necessary there will be enough time to make a turn," I said to myself secretly.
That saying is correct. Really before my sudden end, I did not know Hell as it is. No mortal knows it. But I was fully aware of it: "If you die, you go into the world beyond, straight as an arrow against God. You will bear the consequences".
I did not do it back-to-front, as I have already said, because drawn by the current of habit, driven by that conformity according to which men, the older they get, the more they act in the same direction.
My death happened like this. A week ago I speak according to your calculation, because, compared to the pain, I could say very well that I have already been burning in Hell for ten years. A week ago, therefore, my husband and I went on a Sunday trip, the last one for me.
The day had dawned radiant. I felt better than ever. A sinister feeling of happiness invaded me, which wound through me throughout the day.
When suddenly, on the way back, my husband was dazzled by a flying car. He lost control.
"Jesses" ran away from my lips with a shiver. Not as a prayer, only as a cry. An excruciating pain squeezed me all over. In comparison with that present a bagatella. Then I passed out.
Strange! Inexplicably, that thought arose in me that morning: "You could once again go to Mass." It sounded like an entreaty.
Clear and resolute, my "no" found the thread of thoughts. “With these things you have to do it once. All the consequences are on me! " - Now I bring them.
You know what happened after my death. The fate of my husband, that of my mother, what happened to my corpse and the conduct of my funeral are known to me in their details through natural knowledge that we have here.
Moreover, what happens on earth, we know only nebulously. But what somehow affects us closely, we know. So I also see where you stay.
I myself woke up suddenly from the dark, the instant of my passing. I saw myself as flooded by a dazzling light.
It was in the same place where my corpse lay. It happened as in a theater, when the lights suddenly go out in the hall, the curtain divides loudly and an unexpected horribly illuminated scene opens. The scene of my life.
As in a mirror my soul showed itself. The graces trampled from youth until the last "no" before God.
I felt like a murderer. to whom. during the judicial process, her lifeless victim is brought before her. Repent? Never! ... Shame on me? Never!
But I could not even resist under the eyes of God rejected by me. There was only one thing left: escape.
As Cain fled from Abel's corpse, so my soul was driven by that sight of horror.
This was the particular judgment: the invisible Judge said: "Get away from me!".
Then my soul, like a yellow shadow of sulfur, fell into the place of eternal torment ...

Clara concludes:
In the morning, at the sound of the Angelus, still trembling with the frightening night, I got up and ran up the stairs to the chapel.
My heart throbbed right down my throat. The few guests, kneeling beside me, looked at me, but perhaps they thought I was so excited about the ride. Made down the stairs.
A good-natured lady from Budapest, who had observed me, said after smiling: - Miss, the Lord wants to be served calmly, not in a hurry!
But then he realized that something else had excited me and still kept me agitated. And while the lady addressed me other good words, I thought: God alone is enough for me!
Yes, He alone must suffice me in this and in the other life. I want one day to be able to enjoy it in Paradise, for how many sacrifices it can cost me on earth. I don't want to go to Hell!