I heard this story from a good friend of my mother. We often visited her when I came to Russia for the holidays from Dusseldorf. Anastasia Aleksandrovna is a very pleasant woman, she often told us something interesting, but what she told us at our last meeting amazed me. I knew that Anastasia Aleksandrovna's beloved husband had once died, I hardly remembered him, but my mother told me that he was an unusually intelligent, interesting person. He was almost 17 years older than Anastasia Alexandrovna. I also heard that they had some unusual love story. And then one evening, when the conversation touched love, I noticed something in the eyes of this old woman that made me silent. And then Anastasia Alexandrovna told me what happened to her many years ago. I did not sleep all night … And in the morning I wrote down her story almost word for word.
- You've probably heard of reincarnation? She asked me. - Of course, yes, I'm sure, because now they write about everything. But in our time, not only was there no such word, but somehow the very concept of "transmigration of the soul" did not take place. What was happening to me seemed to be an ambient slight shift in my psyche. My parents - hereditary doctors - dreamed of my career as a doctor. And I was drawn to music. I ran to music school as if to my own home. I was twelve when, one evening, returning from school in the evening, I suddenly felt ill. We lived then in Magadan. It was very dark - autumn, sleet was falling. I was walking down the street, and suddenly, as if something had shot in my mind, I saw that I was on a completely different street, somehow narrow and dirty. It was me and not me. It's so hard to explain this condition.“There” I was about fourteen years old. Blond hair, a cap on my head, a tartan woolen skirt, rough heavy shoes - that is what I clearly remember. I also remember that I went to a very important person on whom my fate depended. Then again there was a sharp jolt, and I saw myself again real, on a bench, two women and a man who asked me something, wiped their face with a handkerchief. Weakened and confused, I was brought home and handed over to my parents, who were terribly frightened, because I was never a weak child in terms of health. I told my mother about what I saw, and she was even more scared. I remember then she even gave me some injections. Then again there was a sharp push, and I saw myself again real, on a bench, two women and a man who asked me something, wiped their face with a handkerchief. Weakened and confused, I was brought home and handed over to my parents, who were terribly frightened, because I was never a weak child in terms of health. I told my mother about what I saw, and she was even more frightened. I remember then she even gave me some injections. Then again there was a sharp jolt, and I saw myself again real, on a bench, two women and a man who asked me something, wiped their face with a handkerchief. Weakened and confused, I was brought home and handed over to my parents, who were terribly frightened, because I was never a weak child in terms of health. I told my mother about what I saw, and she was even more frightened. I remember then she even gave me some injections.
Then everything repeated about six months later. I was sitting in a biology lesson when suddenly everything "floated" and I saw myself in a large bright room, in a long pink dress. I remember very well the decoration of the room and the harpsichord. A handsome gray-haired man was sitting at the harpsichord, playing a waltz. I looked at him adoringly. I remember quite clearly that he was my guardian. My distant childless relative, a rich and noble one, who took me, the poor daughter of ruined parents for her upbringing, with the aim of marrying off successfully and thus finding heirs. Then the man got up and we began to waltz in one, two, three. He gently pointed out my mistakes, showing me how to turn my head. Then I returned to my present again. There was a feeling that everything lasted for several minutes, the lesson continued … For a long time nothing like this was repeated,and I already thought that these were really age-related mental disorders.
After graduating from eight classes, to the great chagrin of my parents, I entered the Khabarovsk Music College. She studied well, met young people, dreamed of a career as a great musician, in general, she lived like many of my friends - nothing special. And here is the "inclusion" again. At that moment I was studying in the audience, playing Bach. I saw myself in a wonderful autumn garden. It was cold enough, but the rays of the sun were still playing. In the distance was a huge stone house, neat paths around the lawns. I walked, leaning on the arm of that gray-haired man, dressed in a warm coat with a cape. I was expecting a baby. Probably, these were the last months of pregnancy. My guardian was saying something, but I was not listening. My heart was breaking with pain. I loved this man. And he gave me in marriage to a young noble youth and with rapture waited for the appearance of our firstborn. I walked and thought aboutthat I probably will never dare to confess my feelings. At some point, my adoptive father, freeing his hand, quickly walked to a small rose bush and picked a lonely, already withered rose. Then he came up to me, knelt down and held it out. And there was something in his gaze … I woke up at the piano, my hands were on my knees, and something was torn in my chest. I didn't have any more inclusions of that life. Then I often thought about what language we spoke, and everything seemed to be in English. By the way, in my current life it was easy for me, I speak like my own. And there was something in his gaze … I woke up at the piano, my hands were on my knees, and something was torn in my chest. I didn't have any more inclusions of that life. Then I often thought about what language we spoke, and everything seemed to be in English. By the way, in my current life it was easy for me, I speak like my own. And there was something in his gaze … I woke up at the piano, my hands were on my knees, and something was torn in my chest. I didn't have any more inclusions of that life. Then I often thought about what language we spoke, and everything seemed to be in English. By the way, in my current life it was easy for me, I speak like my own.
And then the events took place like this: the arrival of several members of the commission from Moscow was expected for the final exam, and, naturally, we were all terribly worried, because only some of the lucky ones expected a smooth transition to the conservatory. I go on stage, sit down at the piano. But before I play, I look at the examiners. And literally numb: in one of the chairs sits HE, the guardian from that life, only a little younger! I couldn't play. I felt so bad that it was impossible to convey. In the corridor, my fellow students amicably soldered me with water. A hand softly laid on my shoulder: “Don't worry, you'll hand over everything later. Don't go anywhere, I'll take you home. This is how I met my future husband. Yuri took me to Moscow, where we got married. I was madly in love with this man, but still could not find the strength to tell him about what was happening to me these years.
I was in the last stages of pregnancy when my husband came to visit me at the hospital. We were walking in the hospital garden, it was the end of September. The trees were all yellow, the garden was empty. But in one of the corners we saw a rose bush with one, the last flower. I involuntarily stopped, and Yura, like a boy, jumping over the fence, plucked this rose and brought it to me, kneeling down, like “there”. Can you imagine what happened to me? I have contractions! I gave birth to twins, a son and a daughter. And six years later she lost her husband. I was called from the school where I taught, straight to the hospital: Yura was hit by a car. Ridiculous and accidental. The doctors did not hide anything and said directly that he had several hours left. I will never forget these a little over two hours … Yura was without memory, and I was afraid that he would die without saying goodbye to me. But at some point he opened his eyes and looked at me intently. I thought he was looking without seeing. The eyes were watering. I bent down, trying to make out what he was whispering. At first it was impossible to make out anything, then he suddenly became all tense and uttered quite clearly in the purest English: "Do you remember, I taught you to dance the waltz?" And then his mouth twisted into a cramp. In a few minutes he was gone …
So many years have passed, and I keep asking myself the question: what was it, why? When various articles and studies about various unusual phenomena in our life began to be published, I eagerly read everything that related to reincarnation, but I did not find anything sensible. But once, having told this story to one, so to speak, a sorceress, I heard the following words: “You sinned in your past life, let your true love pass by and stayed apart, not having completed your life task. Life has given you a chance again. But you have to pay for everything, and your Yura paid the bill."
Nord-Rhein-Westfalen
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