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On the farm, I saw beautiful illustrated Bible books, and we always went to Mass at the church in a nearby village. All of this was deeply engraved in my imagination. The novenas, the prayer of the holy rosary, and how they knelt at night at the foot of the bed to pray with great fervor.
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Afterward, I lived for a while with my grandmother, and that's when I went to catechism; because of all this, I was a very devout girl, despite the evil influence of my own mother at home, which didn't affect me because she was remarkably absent, worked outside as a teacher. I was often alone, with a lady who was our maid and cook, or playing in the street or with my brothers.
Unfortunately, with the death of my grandmother when I was 11 years old and trips to the farm becoming increasingly rare, every day, I was seduced and swallowed by the magnet of evil and the devil.
But even before that, when I was tiny, my very vivid imagination showed me, as in a dream, the vision of my going to hell. Always with my mother.
I will talk about these visions next time...
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Ah yes, when parents do not bring God into their family we the children suffer too. Happened to us as well. But I think you had a better exposure to Catholicism when you were young. Having devout relatives is really a blessing.
Thank you for commenting. I was away from social media for a few months on a spiritual retreat, but I intend to post regularly again. Hugs. Peace and Good.