start to finish, Amanda would be through in less than 90
alert, she would softly chat with, and giggle at her therapist.
Occasionally she would groan just a little, but a mere touch
on her forehead would be enough to calm her again, and she
would assure the man that all was fine, having fun again,
and reminding him to “stay well out of the line of
fire.” However, her little girl about to be born was
not going to be called after him, no matter how much he insisted
on having earned the right of having her as a namesake.
There was no reason for Amanda to have her therapist present
at the birth of her first baby, but she had long been dismissive
of his suggestion of painless childbirth therapy. Well into
her eighth month she had gotten cold feet, very suddenly,
and with just two sessions under her belt, literally under
her belt, she had urged him to be with her at short notice.
“Wonders . . . Never
Cease . . .”
The labor ward timepiece said
it was 2:15 AM. Amanda’s
attendant, Julie, was pleased with the rapid progress her
chuckling charge was making. The only other mom-to-be-again
in the spacious labor ward was having a difficult task with
her third-time-around effort. Moaning, groaning, crying now
behind the little screen pulled into place, the obstetrician
was having a tough job of calming her. “I know just
exactly how you feel!” the therapist heard him say.
“Wonders . . . never cease, George,” Julie whispered
at him, then, a little louder, “Push just a little
more now, Mandy-dear.” The therapist could hardly contain
himself, but he made not a sound. Julie never moved a muscle,
but there was a give-away glint in her eyes. Amanda burst
out laughing. She was out of control. Then she remembered
to push. Less than a second later, her dear little blonde “splashed” into
her brand-new world.
Soon after, the therapist
was on his 20-minute drive home for a few more hours of
rest, still grinning
about the male obstetrician having an immediate reference
to the problem of birthing babies. And yet, he wondered how
it was possible for him to intuitively take on his patients’ symptoms,
so often, so powerfully, so accurately, though only momentarily.
Was he an Empath? Perhaps.
Just weeks later, Tamara Chelsey
taught Barnard how to “lift
a patient’s head, and place it upon his own shoulders” to
sense precisely how they felt, physically, intellectually,
emotionally. Much later still, he occasionally incorporated
the method into the Akashic Construct teachings.
And it’s just a small
thought from George Barnard.