Experiences NDE Memories of a three y/o Boy
Experiences NDE Memories of a three y/o Boy near death experiences witness NDE boy
Experiences NDE Memories of a three y/o Boy : in 1946 the war has just ended and there was only the skeleton of the town of Bologna Italy lef, my grandfather Augusto, called the “blacksmith,” used to live towards the outskirts, beyond Borgo Panigale, in the area la Pioppa, his job was shoeing farmers’ horses, and building them the useful tools for their jobs, he lived with two sons, a daughter, two daughter-in-laws and three grandchildren, there were many mouths to feed, and it was a hard job.
In 1946 His latest son Dante had a baby. I just want to speak about that child called Franco, who was very lively for whom there was a life with unusual features in store.
I’m that child.
My father used to help my grandpa Augusto with his job. He wasn’t endowed with a talent and a very special insight. In fact, one day while pulling up a bucket full of water out of the well, he got a brilliant idea. After having thought about it, he designed what is called a “chain pump.”
Electric pumps didn’t exist yet and that providential intention that has been patented and produce on a large scale in his workshop marked a very positive breakthrough for the whole family. He built a big house and a workshop on the back from the profits of this great invention. He received orders from all over Italy including its islands, and he grew rich very soon. He could even afford to buy a B.S.A. with a sidecar. It was something very posh those days!
In summer 1950 he decided to have rest for a while and take his family on the hills on the border with Tuscany in Molino del Pallone. A little peaceful town with the Reno river drifting below. We were staying at Mrs. Fanin’s, and there was Mr. Guerrino with his two daughters too. One day my parents took me and those two little girls a bit older than me on the banks of the river.
We were about seven hundred meters above sea level and the water was coming down among the rocks so sober, and bubblying. My father gathered pebbles and put them on the river bank making a duct to float a plastic duckling that he bought me to keep me quiet. It must have been nice to see it float and stopping at the end, and take it back to the top again! I liked that game and I was quiet in fact my parents moved a bit away from me. Suddenly that duckling found an exit between two pebbles and went out to sea following the current. One of the little girls saw my cap with “Forza Coppi” written on it floating off and told my mother. She looked towards that hat and was horrified to see that her little boy was floating on the surface of the water. She had a nervous breakdown and started screaming.
Many people, being attracted by my mother screaming, all ran down towards the river to help. The fastest was my father who didn’t hesitate to jump into the water, trying to rescue me although he couldn’t swim. Miraculously he reached me and he brought me back to the shore. He performed the mouth-to-mouth respiration until I opened my eyes and said: “Mum, it was Our Lady who saved me!” Everyone there looked at one another with astonishment, almost incredulous hearing that sentence being said by only a little boy and right then! I was three ys/o. How can a child who stutters a few words get to say something on such a profound subject? That incidence caused headlines and people spoke about that for a long time.
When they used to ask me since I was little “Do you remember anything?” I used to reply: “Only lights, I only saw some lights, there was something like an enormous wall full of little lighted dots gathering together like a great smile, and I felt like a single laugh laughter coming out from all of them, they weren’t smiling, they were laughing really as if they were passing me on their happiness that’s in contrast with what you feel when you look at so many round things. As if they were saying: “Don’t look at the graves with tears, but smile, we’re happy.” They were laughing so much. It was like looking at a wall full of niches and each one of them lighted up and laughed loudly and they almost impressed on my mind to not go to the cemetery, to stop crying for the dead, but to think that the dead smile, and the living mourn.”
Thinking it over … What does that wall mean? It shows the passing from the life we “live” and the real life that’s beyond that wall. What is that wall really? It’s passing to the real life.
I have the respect, I have the utmost respect for the dead, but I’ll never be afraid of death.
If there’s something that drives me mad it’s the way adults talk about death to children. They always put it liked to a punishment in hell. We are letting ourselves being influenced by Dante Alighieri’s great work, but it’s completely absurd, and it’s completely different for who believes in a God, “Remember you are dust and dust you shall return.” We’ll notice that it’s right, when se pass on. Passing on with our soul, we let our body decay in the cemetery. What does going barefooted on lighted carbons and you burn in eternity mean if we have left our flesh on Earth? Who says that the Soul burns too? And that devil, who throws you into the deepest depths, what does he prick with his pitchfork? Our soul? So what’s this devil? What’s this hell? Why threaten us so much? Our Lord wants all until the last of us even the worst of men in the hereafter. There are surely different situations, different shapes, God knows how many other lives, but a God who throws you into the fire is a God against himself. If you go to hell in eternity, why do you get a discount of an amount of years of indulgence through a Mass? Why do you have a certain amount of years with a candle, and with an enormous wax-light you get a certain amount plus 1? I’m a book-keeper, I used to work in a bank, but this calculus is ridiculous.
According to what happened in my life I think I have had a real contact with Our Lady, because according tome, what happened to me in Molino del Pallone was a Miracle; the first of a long series of events, that have to do with supernatural and go beyond human understanding.
For example, while growing up, I have had to accept, although with great difficulty, a completely unusual feature. Such an ability - that came spontaneous – that mad me foresee very precisely things concerning my future.
I even foresaw my sport full of medals and my illness with paralysis owing to a multiple sclerosis. I foresaw for my girlfriend, who in 1971, after being engaged of nine y/rs, would have left me lying on a hospital bed, and that at the end of the year I would have met a very important person for me.
I escaped my blindness diagnosis at the Ospedale Maggiore and at S. Orsola in Bologna. A cancer I had in my head disappeared without me having to undergo an operation, in the Neurosurgery at the Bellaria Hospital they gave me the extreme unction and they wanted to operate me. (I got others in two other hospitals.) I refused to undergo the operations and I signed the voluntary resignations.
On the eve of my wedding in 1971 I had been recovered to hospital for he umpteenth time and she abandoned me in hospital and on 9th Dec 1971! In the same year I had the most extraordinary meeting of my life. It was the first time I met Don Angelo Fantoni establishing an eternal friendship. Today, thanks to Don Angelo’s mystic fluid, I’m retired, I’m a blind man who can see, an ex-desperate person, who wanted to commit suicide and who today loves life. I consider myself being lucky and I often wonder if I am responsible for all this. “It’s Our Lady who saved me!” I go back to that sentence and still today I look up to Heaven and I ask questions, I breathe it, I live it, I wish to have a conversation with It. I have received such much, and I have decided to do something for my neighbour. It’s not only a duty but even a pleasure for me to try to give others what I have received, even if it were just a bit. Doing so I regained my sight, my peacefulness, my life. “Thank you Our Lady for having saved me.”
Franco Predieri
The utmost gift I have received from life has been getting to know death, it’s not philosophy, nor madness, it’s just truth.
Experiences NDE Memories of a three y/o Boy near death experiences witness NDE boy was told by Franco Predieri