The following is some of the past life memories that I have and have done research on:
I remember standing in a large stone temple in front of a large altar. There was a fire burning before it in a stone fire pit. I was placing branches of herbs on the fire and slowly pouring out oil and wine onto the fire from golden bowls.
There were other women there with me. We were all adored in the same way with gold necklaces with colored stones in them and gold bracelets. We all wore white linen robes. The temple was filled with people who were seeking ‘medicines’ or healing from us; it was clear that we were in service to them.
My father, Thomas Faunce, was born July 21, 1775 and died when he was 65 years old in Dartmouth, Massachusetts. He married my mother, Sarah Coombs, on January 2, 1800 in Rochester, Massachsuetts. My mother was born February 10, 1779 in Rochester, Massachusetts and died when she was 61 years old.
I was the oldest of ten children. My sisters were: Hannah C. (died when she was 3 months old), Lucy C. (was 3 years younger than I), Paulina (5 years younger), Sarah B. (10 years younger), Hannah C. (12 years younger), Louisa (lived only for 2 days), Emelina (19 years younger) and Phoebe Anne (was born 24 days before my 24th birthday). And I had just one brother: John P. (7 years younger).
My name was Abigail (Faunce Snell). I was born on October 27, 1800 in Dartmouth Massachusetts and I died May 6, 1885. I was married to Leonard Snell when I was 23 years old. My sister Paulina married his brother Abel Snell 4 years later. My other sisters married into the Hafford, Wilson, Collins and Ashley families.
My brother John married Eliza C. Ashley.
At the half waypoint between Betsy Winslow Elementary School and our home is St. Luke's Hospital. One day as I was walking by I gazed up at the brick building and read the blue lettering of the hospital's name. Now the next few thoughts went by quickly. The thoughts took maybe 4 minutes to run through my mind: St. Luke’s - that’s the name of a saint: Saint Luke. Luke was the apostle who was a doctor. A healer. This hospital must have been a Catholic Hospital in the past. I did that past life reading for WaterLily who died in a Catholic Hospital. When year was that life? I think it was either 17th or 18th century. Nuns worked in the hospitals back then. I had a calling to be a nun when I was younger. WaterLily and I have a connection. I’m a healer. I was a nun in a past life. I worked in a Catholic hospital in that past life. I wore a habit with white wimple. I see myself caring for a dying woman. I was one of the nuns who cared for WaterLily. I was with her when she died.
And as I walked past the hospital I cried. Everything clicked. It was as if someone had just showed me a scene in a movie. I can describe my habit. I can describe the hospital room.
When I arrived home I began doing research on the history of Catholic hospitals. In my searching I discovered a name that triggered an intense emotional response for me. Louise de Merillac (Mlle. Le Gras). When I read her name I cried. I have a connection to this woman. She is someone to me – someone dear. Even as I type this I can feel my heart radiate with such love. My eyes are tearing in response to these words. I am sure that I was of the nuns in the order of Sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul.