Jessica Allin - An Emerald Green Rosebud

Copyright 2014 Jessica Allin

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Dedicated to
My Only Love

During the year 1974 I wrote a book called The Eastern Belle. The main character was called Michelle. Some of the book was fictional and some real. Michelle, in fact, portrayed my life, but uncannily so she has come to life. Unbelievable as it may sound, I have been REBORN and Michelle is JESSICA. It is a profound happening and Michelle, her husband and Jessica, the author, have been deeply moved by a PREORDAINED happening. MICHELLE is ME and JESSICA is MICHELLE.

The staff of life is a gift of love,

A heavenly bond sent from above,

Our tower of strength is the love we both hold,

Secured forever by a token of gold.

Written for our 51st Wedding Anniversary

It happened during the period of the ending of 2002. I had a vision during the early hours I was very young and a veil of white cotton hung neatly from my head. There was an air of panic from the people who were anxiously trying to pin a deep red rosebud to my veil you see, these people, I dont know who they were, tried desperately and almost pathetically to keep the rosebud pinned to the centre of my forehead, but it just kept falling off. I came back to reality with a message that I was just not prepared for my destiny of I know not what. Michelle then came into my life a few days later and the impact of that meeting over one and a half hours has continued to have an astounding impact on my life. I think of her daily and cry just now and then. To meet with your own presence and with one who is a part of you reborn is without explanation. We both experienced a sensation of mystical presence and indeed shock, as did our husbands, our only witnesses, plus the little lad, her son, who was calm within his circle of oblivion.

A week later I saw a doll in the cancer charity shop; she was clad in virginal white with a veil hung about her head. She was the image of the young girl in my vision. I pinned a rosebud to her long white dress and I have called her Michelle. I look at this beautiful replica of my vision daily it is all so uncanny and the happenings are indeed very real. I will be seventy-six years old tomorrow and I cannot imagine how Michelle feels. She was so shocked and traumatised by our incredible meeting in Javea, Spain during such a short visit. How and why did it all happen right outside our house when we happened to be at home? Thousands of homes could have been their meeting place but it was our house oh dear! Michelle and I touched each others faces and could not comprehend how this mystical union had come about. The same eyes, expressions, noses, cheekbones; myself transformed into beautiful Michelle. The contact of this absolute replica of the other has shocked us Michelle, Jessica, Roger and Michelles husband. It is a secret in our lives, which, because of its mystical perfection, cannot be explained one without the other. The Emerald Green Rosebud Lies on a Planet of Peace.

A few years ago I wrote a book called A Breath of Africa, which is an autobiographical story about my life in Africa, a land in which I spent thirty-two years.

Whilst I was living in Harare, Central Africa, I wrote a book called The Eastern Belle; it was never presented to a publisher. The locations were factual but the story carried a fictional theme. Hours of work and dedication went into The Eastern Belle and from the manuscript I recorded the story on to reels of tape. All the characters became a part of my every day life. It was my great wish that my tapes would pass from house to house in which lived people who could not see. I bought several machines in order to achieve my mission but, unfortunately, my desire failed to reach fruition. The work was descriptive to help those who could hear but could not see sight by sound.

The main character in The Eastern Belle was a girl called Michelle. She portrayed my life in the factual elements of the story. Michelle was beautiful, innocent, brave and adventurous.

I have now lived in Spain for twenty-one years during which time A Breath of Africa was published in England. I have lived in the same house and have now been married for over fifty-one years. I write articles with fluency but this true story must go into print with divine obligation.

The year 2003 entered my life with an incredible happening of joy, beauty and ordained reality in Spain.

The heralding of the New Year is a celebration of much festivity. The Puerto del Sol was alive with anticipation of midnight. Madrid was the centre of attraction and that special clock greeted the crowd and those in their homes with the vibes from that final stroke, which signalled that we had entered the year of 2003. The grapes had been eaten; the dancing commenced and the 1st January throughout the day became silent with the populace sleeping away the daylight hours. Peace, love and good health were the salutation for the New Year. These were the wishes echoing from the lips of the community in Spain.

It was now the second day of the New Year and the good wishes continued on from the old year. Sadness, emotional excitement tinged with a touch of magic was the message portrayed on many faces. We live on a corner, close to the sea and near to a main road; for years we have helped to show people the way when lost and in general presented advice when necessary.

The village of Javea with its international community and delightful Spanish people had been our venue for the morning. Even the sea displayed its contribution to the New Year greeting on this special day, 2nd January 2003.

It was early afternoon when a car pulled up near to our home. My husband was by our car so he responded to the young lady who enquired as to where she could find an agency. Then he said, My wife knows all the places, here she comes. I studied the bit of paper and reiterated my directions. I met the gentleman with her and the little lad behind who was so good. Then it happened.

The following true happening has had a tremendously powerful impact on my life. I genuinely believe that I have been reborn I was speaking to me but her name was Michelle not just a likeness but the real me.

My name is Michelle, she said. We stared at one another; Michelle knew she was me instantly we were blessed. The feeling was of infinite happiness but physical shock. Tears came down her cheeks she fell into her husbands arms. I transferred all my strength into Michelle because she was so much younger. I walked away trying not to cry. I moved back to the car and Michelle had regained her composure. Then it all began.