A birthday gift from Heaven
By Don Bradley
The day was my birthday—yay—and I
was about early that morning running errands on the other side of
town, where my sons lived with their mother. I had only the month
before, moved to a condo lease to be as close to my boys as possible.
To be a good father and to always be around for them. I had to spend
the previous year living in my truck for no one would give me a job,
even the most menial work I applied for. Even every single Temp
agency in Los Angeles. Even with my work history, publishing career,
several degrees, and teaching credential, building estimator for a
decade, once my name went into their system, the network would cut me
off at the knees. Life was and is, like that for me. I sold orgone
again, to make some kind of living. It wasn't much. It was January
2008, this particular day. The 10th.
I noticed all morning that these clouds
kept following me around wherever I went. In an otherwise perfectly
blue, clear, morning sky. No chemtrails that day either. So, I was
dropping off groceries at their moms house, as I did each week, and I
borrowed a camera I had given my son Matt, a Nikon a6006 film camera with a
roll still inside.
Then I walked outside and quickly
snapped a few pictures from their driveway of these clouds, which
were now down at the end of the street, over a house. I remember
thinking, “Okay guys, I got you. No one would believe me
otherwise.” I had to return the camera, because the boys were in
school, and without direct permission, I had no right to keep the
camera with me that day. So, I put it back in Matt's room. When I saw
them later, I told him of the borrowing. It was all good, as I knew
it would be.
Also, every time I looked out the truck
window (I am still driving that old truck to this day), there they
were just 500 feet away. I kept hearing singing inside me. It's hard
to explain that one, and don't care if no one believes it. Frankly,
no one believes much of anything I say, and that's just fine.
These “clouds”, shaped like angels
wearing wings and sometimes holding stringed instruments of old, went
wherever I went that day, all day. Look out the window, there they
were.
Finally, as the sun began to set, they
took off in a really golden sunset. Thing is...being alone, no real
income, not expecting the lease to last even a month, but enjoying
hot showers again, I felt loved and looked after. Especially after a
year of parking in Santa Clarita, living in a truck with a broken
clutch that didn't work or shift (fortunately, fixed the day before I
got the lease), and having to walk everywhere to go anywhere for
anything. Donna sent enough money every month for my min car
insurance and cell phone. The rest I scrounged from trash cans and
leftover food the boys saved for me. But, I had my bible, my love of
Dad and my boys. And my friends, these servants of the Holy of
Holies, who were always around. Plus, a few friends from the orgone
days, who still showed kindness. I love them all very much.
I did have these things. But nothing
else.
I had put these pics up on a blog that
the satanists took down back in 2009, that I had up for years, and
was using whatever access I could get to update it. So, for a few of
you out there, you've seen these before.
The pictures are from the end on the
boys driveway, of which I was standing. I have a shot of me standing
in the driveway, as I asked the mom unit to take my picture, and
“baby” the truck. Can't find the pic-when I do, will put it up.
Here you go.
I love Dad. I love Yeshua. I love you
all.
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| Following the village dork. they constantly changed into different, beautiful expressions of their selves. I wish I were able to get the all day shots, some were really impressive. |
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| My 1989 Toyota truck SR5, original owner, parked in the boys driveway. The dork mobile. it still looks this good, Because I take care of what Dad gives me as the blessings these things are. |
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| Don the writer, during a book signing at Barnes and Noble, 1998. I couldn't be that guy anymore, and Dad was waking me up to what I was into more and more, and that time had to pass. Along with the money and the fame. |