Where Did It All Began? In “Vega Grande.” Don Miguel’s Domain and Terrain….
Journal—An Ongoing Dialog Between thiaBasilia And Master Yahuwah/Yahushua. …
It’s Friday, February 16, 2018 at 12:53 am. Finish posting. Going to sleep now.
Wake up at 3:31 am.
Saturday, February 17, 2018 at 12:25 am.
Father? You know what’s going on in the search to optimize The Family—A True Story. I will turn off the computer. Unplug it. Go to bed, and? Hope You give Your beloved sleep.
It’s 4:31 am. Thanks my Father for the much needed sleep. Today it’s supposed to rain, but! The rain has not started yet. I woke up with one thought in mind. Oh?
One thought, Where Did It All Began? Chapter 1 To Continue The Grand Saga Of The Mother In The Family—A True Story.
From The Original Autobiography ….
I was born in a beautiful hole in the back of beyond Guatemala, called “Vega Grande.” My birth was recorded in Spanish by hand in the books of The Registrar,
“Nombre Basilia Licona nacida en Los Amates, Departamento de Izabal, el 14 de Junio de 1939 a las 3 de la manana. Nombre del padre Miguel J. Licona. Nombre de la madre, M. Teresa Zarceno. Registrada en el libro 28, folio 275.”
In that beautiful hole where I was born, I remember how my father would import a “maestra” (teacher) from the city to come and teach how to read, write and arithmetic to everybody, grown-ups and children as well.
It was like having an in-house teacher because of the seclusion of the land no worker could commute on daily basis, so she had to live with us.
Everybody lived in the land, family and relatives as well as field workers, servants and their families and the “Maestra” (Teacher). Her name? Dona Julia.
Awful, grotesque memories about play time to haunt me for many, many years.
School time at that time must not have been bad, because I don’t recollect any bad memories about it.
But there were awful memories about play time. Those grotesque memories were the first of many other painful memories that were to haunt me for many, many years.
Those were the memories that bound me in the chains of rejection and fear from which no psychiatrist in 20 years could set me free.