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The Sister Charlotte Keckler Story
The Horrors Deep Within The Church Of Rome
Charlotte Keckler Born April 12, 1889 Died September 1983
Social Security # 261-58-5764
Last Residence Napa, California
Resided some years in Boston, Massachusetts
My father Ben C. Reckart knew Sister Charlotte Keckler personally. For several years he passed out tracts that contained bits of her chilling account of Roman Catholic cruelty in the Convents. An investigation of all Convents would not at all be unreasonable or unconstitutional. Human slavery even to a religion is a violation of basic human rights. The following 37 links were transcribed from a public testimony by Sister Charlotte in 1963. You can listen to her expose if you have Real Player. Tape 1 (45 Minutes) and Tape 2 (45 Minutes). Allow some time for Real Player to down load these tapes, you will not regret it!
THE PAPACY SEEKS TO DISCREDIT CHARLOTT’S TESTIMONY
I was sent an email today by a man named Sean Hyland using the name of John, who claims he has information that proves the Sister Charlotte testimony is false. I went to his web page where his so-called facts were supposed to be presented. The attacker is so credible he has to have a free web-site on anglefire! I found nothing there but some disoriented ramblings. He was complaining because Charlotte used the name Wells and not Keckler. The man had done so much research he didn’t even know her name was Keckler. All he could do was attempt to cast doubt on her testimony by attacking her use of the name Wells. Well I have the solution for that but I will see how long it takes this dirt merchant to find it for himself. He complains Charlotte didn’t give the name of the convent she was a prisoner in and so he had no way to check her story out. So, he determined since he had not way to check it out it did not exist and was false. He then tried to claim that Charlotte stole the testimony of another former nun. He claimed Charlotte never was a Catholic and he picked on her use of words to try and prove his point. When I completed reading his alleged expose of her validity, I could not help but wonder why these yapping dogs wait 21 years to quit playing with the altar boys to decide to trash this woman’s testimony. Really, the Catholic Church could have sued her at any time during her 15 years of testimony and put her under oath. How come they were silent? How come the Jesuits that attended her public meetings did not challenge her in front of all these large congregations? Could it be they didn’t because she could have exposed the whole horrible nightmare of the Catholic Church by open examination of the Convent’s records under the legal right of discovery? Could it be the Catholic Church remained silent because there were more nuns in deathly conditions in other convents and a court case that might open all these up to police investigations was to be avoided at all cost? We do not know all the reasons why the Catholic Church decided not to debunk her testimony until after she is long dead. But we know this: The Catholic Church has been a deceptive and murdering institution ever since the Council of Nicaea in 325AD. The papacy has killed millions and there is no shame or no repentance. When the Jews forgive Hitler we will forgive the papacy and the Catholic Church. But then, we have no power to forgive the sins of Rome done against someone the members have killed.
I will not remove the testimony of Charlotte Keckler from the internet Sean Hyland, so don’t send any more email using a false name.
According to Sister Charlotte, Vatican Literally Gets Away with Murder,
Torture, Sexual Abuse and Child Killing Behind the Walls of Cloistered
According to Sister Charlotte, Vatican Literally Gets Away with Murder, Torture, Sexual Abuse and Child Killing Behind the Walls of Cloistered Convents
Nun escapes Carmelite cloistered convent and tells the world about how Vatican condones the torture and killing of ‘little nuns and their
babies’ born after being raped by drunken Catholic priests.
By Greg Szymanski, JD
Jan. 29, 2008
The shocking testimony of Sister Charlotte Wells should have led to an open investigation of murder and child killing in all cloistered Vatican convents in the U.S. and around the world.
But instead, after Sister Charlotte went public with her shocking account of murder, torture, sexual abuse and child killing behind the walls of a Carmelite convent, the whole tragedy was hushed up after she was murdered by the Pope’s henchmen in the Jesuit Order.
And how such torture and killing can be ignored by Popes and government leaders shows just how much power the Vatican really wields.
“Fr. Alberto Rivera, an ex-Jesuit, told us about how Sister Charlotte was killed for going public,” said researcher and author of Vatican Assassins, Eric Jon Phelps, adding Rivera said an undercover Jesuit priest entered her life, having her killed for telling the truth.
Sister Charlotte’s oral testimony can be heard on Greg Szymanski’s radio show aired Monday on The Investigative Journal.
Verifying Sister Charlotte’s testimony were several other nuns, their statements listed on the Jesus Is Lord web site. Here are comments about Sister Charlotte on that courageous site, trying to alert the American people:
“The testimony of Sister Charlotte is disturbing and shocking, but
provides important insights into the worst of convent life as well as
the dynamics of Romanism. It testifies with others such as “Maria Monk” and “The Martyr in Black The Life Story of Sister Justina” (Lord willing, both of these will be on the site one day) as well as the testimonies of former priests such as Chiniquy (The Priest, the Woman and the Confessional), Fresenborg (Thirty Years in Hell), and Hogan (Auricular Confession and Popish Nunneries). Sis. Charlotte’s testimony
seems incredible but only because most people do not know the history of the Romish religion. One of our readers said this about Sis. Charlotte’s testimony:”
“Thank you for printing this testimony, I have been so troubled by what I have read and I can believe what she said because I worked as a waitress. And the priest and nuns would come in a order drinks while wearing the habit. I had a friend that confronted one of the priests and boy what a big blow up that was. He tried to get her fired and then they
really started coming in with the habit on and getting drunk. We told them that it didn’t look good for children to see them drinking especially when they were Godly people (in the children’s eyes.) It was very eye opening to say the least. So I can understand some of what the woman said. I would really like to pray for those other nuns. thank you for your site and information.” SR
“Here’s an excerpt from a modern day Roman cloistered nun
(http://www.passionistnuns.org/vocationstories/findinglove/).This quote is supposed to make a convent sound good but read between the lines and you get a hollow feeling…
Being a Nun: I had always desired to enter more deeply into
the mystery of Jesus’ love for us in His sacred Passion. Where better than a Passionist Monastery where one takes a vow to promote devotion to and grateful remembrance of the Passion of Jesus? Flowing out of this main vow we take four other vows: Chastity, Poverty, Obedience and Enclosure. Prayer, penance, poverty, silence and solitude are a very
important part of our spirit handed down to us by our Holy Founder, St. Paul of the Cross. Also, a deep love for our Spouse, Jesus in the Eucharist [a cracker Romans call “Jesus”]; devotion to our Immaculate Mother and fidelity to the Magisterium of the church attracted me to
this hidden way of life, where prayer knows no bounds.
I think a lot of these women feel empty and want to get close to God. They think they have to “leave the world” for a religious life and of course the priests and nuns are happy to suggest joining a religious order. Not, “Get washed in the blood of the Lamb and born again,” but “Join our convent or monastery”.
…That was 17 years ago, when the monastic enclosure was much more strict than it is now. In those days, we had to visit in a parlor with a table dividing the enclosure from the “outside.” We’re still allowed only five days of the year for a family visit, and our families come to the monastery—we don’t go home unless circumstances warrant an exception. We may write home whenever we like, and professed sisters may call home. This may sound like very limited contact, but it’s really no worse than being sent overseas by the armed forces or an international corporation. http://www.catholicvocation.org.au/cv_atfirstmyfamilyhated.htm
The following is a transcription of Sister Charlotte’s oral testimony given in the 1950’s. Please pass this along to all high-level U.S. politicians, especially Ron Paul who praised John Paul II as a man of peace. If that is true, why did John Paul ignore sister Charlotte’s testimony and why has Ratzinger done the same. Remember, murder has no
statute of limitations and we should demand that these alleged crimes by the Vatican against humanity be investigated. If your officials refuse to do so, you know they are covering for their real satanic masters in the Vatican.
CRITICAL..GET THIS TO EVERY FEMALE, MALE, EVERY WOMAN, EVERY MAN, ALL PARENTS, ALL GRAND PARENTS…SOCKING, THE HELL THAT INNOCENT GIRLS WHO HAVE TAKEN THE “BLACK VEIL” GO THROUGH AND KEPT SECRET FROM THEIR PARENTS, GRANDPARENTS, THEIR LOVED ONES, THE PUBLIC, Us !!!
A NUN’S TESTIMONY ( Sister Charoltte Keckler )
Sister Charlotte Keckler
I was reared in a devout Roman Catholic home and, although our home contained many religious items, we never had a Bible there. Consequently, I never heard of God’s wonderful plan of salvation by faith in the Lord Jesus. No one ever explained to me that I only had to invite Him into my heart and ask Him to save me from all my sins to be born again (Revelation 3:20). Instead, I only knew what I was taught in the catechisms and in the institution which we attended faithfully.
I had a deep love and devotion to the God I did not really know personally and I yearned to give my life to Him completely. According to the teaching I received, the way to do this was to become a nun and enter a convent. My parish priest pressed this idea on me as did the nuns who taught in my parochial school.
How well I remember the day two nuns from my school accompanied me home. The parish priest joined them there for a conference with my father and mother. In my family, children did not interrupt grown-ups but asked to speak. When given permission I told my father simply, “Dad, I want to go into the convent.” Both parents wept for joy at this because they had been thoroughly indoctrinated to believe that to give a child to the convent in this matter was a great service to God.
They were thrilled that one of their girls had decided to give her life to the convent in order to pray for lost humanity. It was all so exciting and religious, and none of us had any idea what was involved or implied in all this. Tragically, both my parents and I had been cleverly manipulated by carefully trained recruiters, representatives of the Roman Catholic system, whom we trusted. Not for one moment did we suspect the deception, lies and horror which lay behind the convent doors. We believed what we had been taught. Like sheep we were led to the slaughter, totally unaware of the fate planned for us.
Twelve months went by and the year 1910 came, when I was to leave home. My mother and I busied ourselves with preparations. The priest said that they had no place for me near home; therefore, my parents had to take me a thousand miles crosscountry to enter me in the convent boarding school. I was then three months from my thirteenth birthday, an immature child, being snatched from my parents at a critical time in my growing up.
Never had I been away from my parents, not even overnight. When they left after staying with me for three days, I was smitten with an aching loneliness and homesickness. In all of the planning for the move, I didn’t really realize that I was going to be separated from my parents, never to see them again. I was miserable and unhappy.
Catholic priests select children at the confessional box and begin to plant the seed to steer them into the convents and the priesthood. Even when I was seven, I would go immediately to the statue of the Virgin Mary when I entered the church to pray, believing she would help me to make a good confession. My childish heart was very honest and the priest always heavily emphasized the absolute necessity of making a good confession. We could keep back nothing if we expected absolution from our sins.
I entered what was classified as a sister of the open order, until I took my white veil at the age of sixteen and one half. Everything was beautiful, and I had no fears or doubts in my mind. The things I was taught were in line with what I had been told earlier before entering the convent. There was no reason to suspect that there were vast areas which were hidden and had been deliberately misrepresented.
Shortly after arrival at the convent, I resumed my schooling. I had just graduated from eighth grade and they had promised me a high school education plus college. Actually, I got little beyond the high school level, other than some nurse’s training. The schooling I received was under duress and terrible difficulties. Following this, I was pushed into the crucial training required of all noviates entering the convent.
Six months before I was fourteen, the Mother Superior began to urge me to take the white veil. She made it all sound so glamorous, romantic and fascinating. I would take the white veil, dressed in a beautiful white wedding dress. An actual marriage ceremony would follow and I would receive a ring and become the spouse or bride of Christ. It was not difficult for an impressionable teenager to be swayed into eager agreement.
Mother Superior then wrote my father to tell him how much money he must send to pay for my wedding dress. Because he was wealthy, it was a sizeable amount. I learned later that it was customary to demand three to five times the cost of the dress. The nuns bought the material and made the dress so that the actual cost was small and the rest of the money could be pocketed. No opportunity was overlooked to milk funds from the faithful.
I was always devout and often walked the fourteen stations of the cross, but after deciding to take the white veil, my fervency increased. In my anxiety to be holy enough to be worthy to become the bride of Christ, I began to crawl the stations of the cross each Friday. Surely this would draw me closer to God and prepare me to take the step I planned.
My heart was bursting with idealistic devotion and love toward the false goals I had been taught would please and honor God in my life. Hundreds of innocent girls go down this trail into the maw of the convents annually, starry eyed and desiring to give their hearts, minds and souls in unselfish service, praying for lost humanity.
With the wedding ceremony behind them, nuns are treated as married woman. We were taught that our family would be saved if we continued to live in the convent, serving the Roman Catholic system. A child’s concern for family members, especially erring ones, is often manipulated by the father confessor to convince him/her to go into religious vocations. As a child, I looked on my father confessor as God and others with whom I have talked did the same thing. This gives his insinuations and suggestions tremendous power and influence. I thought of him as being holy and infallible, totally incapable of lying.
After I took the white veil, everything continued, rosy, religious and beautiful. Everyone was good to me and I lived in the open order convent I saw nothing to lead me to believe it would not continue this way. No girl is subject to the priest until she is twenty-one, but I knew nothing of this for all was carefully hidden and covered. There was no clue to cause one to guess what lay behind the black veil and those double locked doors of the closed, cloistered convent.
Up until I took the black veil I was allowed to receive one letter per month from my family and was permitted to write one to them from the convent. When I wrote I knew that much of it would be censored and marked out by the Mother Superior who read all incoming and outgoing mail. My letters from home were always so marked out until virtually nothing was left to read. I used to weep over all those inked out sections, wondering and worrying over what my mother had been trying to tell me, but there was no way I could ever know.
No one imprisoned behind those walls ever comes out to tell the awful story. Priests will glibly pooh, pooh the idea that there is anything amiss. They will tell you that in this country and elsewhere sisters can walk out of the convents anytime they please. That is a lie! I was shut up for twenty-two years and tried everything to escape. I even carried tablespoons to the dungeons and desperately dug in their dirt floors attempting to find a way out. Why a tablespoon? All the other tools were locked up or carefully supervised. They were used to dig the tunnels and underground chambers. Convents are constructed like prisons to thwart the escape of the nuns.
As I approached eighteen, Mother Superior began to work on me again. Remember that these ruthless women are carefully selected and trained for their jobs. I was making my plans to come out of the convent after taking the white veil to become a nursing sister in the Roman Catholic system. However, she had noted my endurance and devotion so she called me into her office for a conference.
“Charlotte,” she said, “I have been watching you. You have a strong body and the devotion to make a good nun, a cloister nun. I believe you are the type who would be willing to give up home and everything you love in the world to hide yourself away behind convent doors. I believe that you would be willing to sacrifice and live in crucial poverty in order to be able to pray for lost humanity. You would have to be willing to suffer in order to achieve this.”
We were constantly taught that living loved ones as well as those already in purgatory would be delivered sooner by the nun’s suffering here. Mother Superior had observed that I was willing to suffer without murmuring or complaining, therefore she broached the idea of my taking the black veil. Of course I had no idea what the cloistered nuns did or how they lived so she began to tell me about the cloisters.
Mother Superior told me that in the cloisters, I would have to shed my own blood as Jesus did on Calvary. I would have to be willing to endure heavy penances and live in crucial poverty the rest of my life. Already I was living in poverty, but if this would make me holier, draw me closer to God and a better nun, I thought it would be worth it to accept this crucial poverty, whatever it was.
Two months before my twenty-first birthday I was summoned into Mother Superior’s office and papers were shown to me in which I would sign away any and all inheritance I would ever have to the Roman Catholic system. Priests work hard to entice girls from wealthy families into the convents, for the system is enriched by their inheritances. I told her I needed some more time to think about it.
For two years I seriously considered it. If I took my perpetual vows it would mean going behind closed doors in a cloistered convent, and there all my life would belong to God. It would be one of study, devotion, meditation and prayer; however I would be able to win many more souls to God because I would have more time to pray. I believed and accepted all that she said and one day informed her that I had decided to go into cloister.
To begin, I would be required to lie for nine hours in a casket, dying to the world. Never again would I see my people or return home, for I would be bound by the cloister’s convent. This was a tremendous price for a twenty-one year old girl to pay, to give up all that she loved and held dear in the world, but this had to be done in order to win souls to God. I was dressed in a dark red velvet funeral shroud for this wedding ceremony which was performed by the bishop. Both the dress and coffin had been made by the nuns in the cloister.
I knew that when I came out of that coffin, I would never see or hear from my family again; never leave the convent; and would be buried there when I died. I walked to the casket, climbed in and stretched out. Two little nuns came and covered the entire casket with heavy black draperies which reeked of incense. I thought I would surely suffocate. On one side of the room were the usual statues and on the other, Mother Superior, the nuns and priests were seated. For the nine long hours I lay in the coffin they kept vigil and chanted constantly.
The one purpose of being in the coffin was to learn to hate my mother, father and all other earthly ties–all for the love of God. I must forget them, hate them, crowd them completely from my heart, mind and life. All this was to enable me to be a better wife to God.
Lying there, I reminisced about my childhood at home. I remembered the dresses my mother had made for me, but I would never again wear one. I thought of delicious meals, warm beds, and all of the rich and full family life I had had. Of course I wept bitterly and sobbed as my heart ached for those loved ones I would never see again. It was an agonizing experience and I think I loved them more than I ever had before.
I wrung out and spilled every tear in my body. It was so hard to give up everything. In my agony and anguish I shuddered and groaned until there simply were on more tears left. After several hours of this, I regained my composure somewhat. I resolved, “Charlotte, you are going to make the best Carmelite nun who ever was, because both inside and outside the convent you always do your very best.”
When the ordeal finally ended, a bell was tapped and two little nuns immediately lifted the black drapes from the casket. When I stepped from it I was ushered into a room where I was to take my perpetual vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Mother Superior opened a place in my ear lobe and drew out blood, for these must be signed in my own blood.
I vowed to be willing to live in crucial poverty for the balance of my life (although I did not know then what this meant). Next the vow of chastity bound me never to legally marry because I was now the wife of God (by virtue of the wedding ceremony performed earlier). Then the one of obedience, the hardest of all. I promised absolute, unquestioning obedience to the Pope, all the prelates of the Roman Catholic hierarchy, to the Mother Superior of the convent and to the rules of that convent. I was totally ignorant of how sweeping these commitments were and had no realistic concept of the things to which I was pledging myself.
After I had signed all the vows, Mother Superior whacked off all my long hair with the scissors. This was to be sold to the highest bidder, for human hair brings a good market price and they commercialize on everything. (This explains the unbelievable wealth of the church.) After cutting the hair, she took clippers and shaved me bald. For the rest of my life, every two months the clippers would go on my head to shave me bald. The heavy nun’s headgear would be very cumbersome if she kept her hair. Besides, there was neither time nor facilities to wash hair in the convents.
The next step in dehumanizing and disorientation was to take away my entire family name and replace it with the name of a patron saint. As she did this Mother Superior emphasized that, although I was not holy enough to stand in the presence of God, I could always pray to my patron saint and she would intercede to get my prayers through to God. I accepted all this as truth because I did not know any better. Following this if someone had inquired about me at the convent by my given name, they would have been informed that no such person was inside the convent.
Next, Mother read this statement: “As Jesus suffered here on earth, so must we suffer as nuns. We must live our lives as martyrs in the convent. In the Garden of Olives, Jesus shed 62,700 tears for you and me; He shed 98,600 drops of blood for you and me; He received 667 strokes on His body; on His cheek, 110 strokes; on His neck, 107 strokes; on His back, 180 strokes; on His breast, 77 strokes; on His head, 108 strokes; on His side, 32 strokes. They spit in His face 32 times; pulled His beard many times and threw Him to the ground 38 times. By the crown of thorns He received 100 wounds; pleaded for our salvation 900 times, and carried the cross to Calvary 320 steps.” I believed all these religious lies, which years later I learned were the invention of a corrupt Pope.
The last statement she read said, “You will receive a plenary indulgence for your sins and entirely escape the pains of purgatory. Reward them as martyrs who spill their blood for the faith.” She said that if we lived in the convent without breaking a rule, one day when we died we would not go to purgatory but go directly to be with Jesus. What she did not tell us was that it is humanly impossible to live in a convent without breaking rules.
After the vows were signed all of my personal identification was destroyed. Sixty days before, Mother Superior had laid a sheet of paper in front of me. She said I was not to read it, just to sign at the bottom. I didn’t realize then how completely I was signing away any and all inheritances which might ever come to me. They were all assigned to the convent. When my brother was ordained as Roman Catholic priest he also signed everything over to the hierarchy. There is not a lawyer in the land who can break this confiscation assignment, for I have checked it out.
When I took my perpetual vows and signed away my life and possessions I had sold my soul for a mythical mess of pottage. Not only are the nuns systematically destroyed in body but hundreds have their minds shattered and die premature deaths under the cruel and heartless convent bondage. To make it even worse the poor creatures sacrifice all of this and then go out to meet God, Christless and lost for all eternity. How we need to pray for those closed off from the world and the gospel all over the world in these terrible prisons called cloistered convents.
Mother Superior next locked her arm in mine and we walked down the center of another room. A Roman Catholic priest, dressed in holy habit, came to meet us from the other end of the room. When we met, Mother dropped my arm and the priest stepped around and attempted to lock his arm in mine.
I recoiled in horror at this intimacy, for never, in all my years in the convent had a priest ever approached me like this. Always they had been kind, considerate and very polite. Something about the familiarity of his touch and the lecherous look in his eyes repulsed and insulted me although I did not understand exactly why. I jerked loose, blushing with embarrassment and exploded, “Shame on you.” I felt violated and threatened. He turned red in the face and became very angry at my rejection of his overtures to lead me to the “bridal chamber.”
Evidently Mother Superior overheard the exchange for she quickly returned, called by my church name, and informed me that after I had been in the convent a while I would not feel this way. She said all nuns felt the same in the beginning and sternly reminded me of the wedding ceremony I had gone through and of my obligation. She said a priest’s body was sanctified and what they did was not sin. I was terrified, and sobbed hysterically, my mind reeling and I refused to accept what she said.
She became very angry and stiffly said, “As the Holy Ghost placed the seed in the Virgin Mary’s womb and Jesus Christ was born, even so the priest represents the Holy Ghost, therefore it is not a sin for nuns to bear his children.”
I could scarcely believe my ears. I had been deceived and it was too late to turn back! This ghastly statement made me frantic. When she finally gave me permission to speak I burst out, “Mother Superior, why didn’t you tell me this before I took my perpetual vows?” She pursed her lips tightly but said nothing.
Needless to say, I was in a state of numbed shock and horror at what she was saying. It was like an unbelievable nightmare. All my bridges were burned and there was no way back. I could not get out of the convent. Hysterically, I sobbed and told the priest that I wanted to go home. I begged him to call my father to come and get me. I did not want to go any further with this. All my illusions had been shattered and I could not bear the picture which was looming up before me.
I related how three months before I left home to come to the convent (at age 13) my mother told me she would rather dig my grave with her own hands and bury me than to hear that I had lost my virtue. Because I knew nothing of sex, she had then explained it to me. When I related this to Mother and the priest, they stood and laughed at me like fools. They found my naivety and innocent gullibility hilarious.
When this sort of betrayal happens I can tell you that you stand absolutely alone. Communication with your loved ones and friends has already been cut off. Sealed off, you have no one to understand or help and soon the numbing realization of the utter hopelessness of your situation sets in. It is like waking up and finding that an unbearable nightmare is not a dream but a dreadful reality.
I now belonged to Rome and the Pope and Mother Superior had turned me over to a lustful priest who leeringly invited me to join him in the “bridal chamber.” I did not enter the convent to become a bad, but a holy woman, by giving my heart and life to God. I firmly rejected his sexual advances and was strong enough to put up quite a fight had he insisted. I was prepared to struggle to my last drop of blood to preserve my virtue.
When I signed those vows with my own blood I did not realize the enormity of what I had done. I had surrendered away every human right, in order to become a mechanical, robot-like person. From henceforth I would not be able to sit, stand, or speak without permission. I could not lie down, eat or do anything else unless authorized by my superiors. I was allowed to see, hear and feel only what they permitted and ordered. I had become a helpless puppet of the Roman Catholic hierachy.
The next step was my initiation and for this I had to go to my convent. They had my passport all signed and tickets ready to ship me out to a foreign country. Two priests met us at the boat and we were taken, heavily veiled, out into the mountains to be put in a cloistered convent, one story underground. (Of course when the priest sat in our living room at home he never told my dad I would live for years one or two stories underground in a foreign land).
I faced initiation penances, so after three or four days at the new convent, about 9:00 o’clock one morning the Mother Superior told me to come with her. She told me were going to do penance and I would begin my initiation as a Carmelite nun. I remember when she walked me down that dark tunnel and into the room one story below ground level. I had always lived on the first floor, but after taking the black veil I was to live one or two stories underground. When we entered the cold, dark room it was hard to see, for all the light came from seven flickering candles. I was frightened and apprehensive, not knowing what to expect, nor what she planned to do to me.
As we came closer, I could make out a nun lying on a board six feet long (a cooling board). I realized with a shock that she was dead. Although I was not afraid of the dead nun my heart ached for her. When I signed those perpetual vows I had unknowingly signed away every human right. I was not allowed to see, to hear, to complain, to feel or to murmur. I had ears but was to be deaf; eyes but must not see; feelings but soon would be brainwashed so they would be blotted out. As I stood looking at the body, many thoughts and questions raced through my mind but I was bound to silence. How and why did she die?
Mother Superior ordered me to stand vigil over the dead body for one hour, then she went away. I was required to walk over to the frail body frequently, sprinkle it with ashes and holy water and say repeatedly, “Peace be unto you.” In an hour a bell was to be tapped somewhere and out of the mysterious darkness behind me another nun came to relieve me. Because she was barefooted on the dirt floor there was no sound. We were forbidden to speak, therefore my relief reached out and touched me on the shoulder. I leaped with fright and began screaming hysterically at the top of my voice.
This loss of control meant I must be punished by being tossed into a dark and dirty dungeon. There I lay for three days and nights, without food or water, just because I had shrieked in fear – a terrible crime. I assure you I never screamed again. You learn fast in a convent to observe the rules.
On the fourth day, again Mother Superior told me we were going to do penance and we went deep under the convent into another dark chamber. We started through the tunnels (there were 35 miles of them under this convent) and, other than candles, there was no light in the rooms we passed. She marched me into a large penance chamber, arm in arm, on our toes, with downcast eyes.
In the flickering candlelight I saw the usual statues of Jesus and Mary in the room. There was also a large eight foot cross, made of heavy, rough timber, lying on its side. She took me near the foot of it and proceeded to strip my clothes off down to the waist. Then she bent my body down over the cross, pulled my hands down below it and fastened them securely to my knees, under the cross.
This was where I was to begin to spill my blood as Jesus had shed His on Calvary. I had been told earlier that I would shed my blood for lost humanity, but they never gave me any idea of how this would be accomplished. Now I was to learn one of the many ways this was to take place. Two other nuns were given flagellation whips fashioned from six leather straps fastened to a wooden handle. In the ends of the thongs were embedded a number of sharp, jagged bits of metal. They began to flog me methodically with these cruel instruments until my bare flesh was thoroughly lacerated from hundreds of cuts and my blood ran all over the floor.
Twist and writhe as I might, there was no escape from the relentless, fiery bite of the ruthless whips. Let me tell you they did a thorough job on me and I was aflame with awful pain and agony. Sobbing and screaming did not stop them, nor were they affected by pitiful cries for mercy. They were well trained and utterly heartless and I was swallowed up in a sea of pain and awful despairing. It was unbelievable, yet it was happening. I thought the beating would never stop. I was helpless and totally without defenses.
Mother Superior released my hands from my knees after I had slumped into a moaning, suffering heap and she was satisfied I had spilled enough blood for this time. She drug me to my feet but did not bathe me nor treat the mass of bleeding wounds on my body. She simply pulled my clothes back on and I was forced to work all day, until 9:15 that night. Needless to say, the day was one of agony, but no one seemed to notice. with a sickening horror I realized the meaning of the teachings I had received that God is made happy by this penance and other sufferings. This was supposed to make us holier.
That day was a living hell for me, but this was only the beginning of hundreds of such days. When night came I stood in front of my cell bed where we were required to undress, with our backs to each other. I could not remove my clothing. The garments stained with blood had dried and were stuck tightly to my gaping wounds. It was several nights before I could take them off, and then it was an agonizing and bloody procedure. At mealtime I was not hungry because of the terrible misery I was suffering.
Ordinarily I would have undressed and have slipped into a muslin nightgown, and then enter my cell to be locked in for the night. For a bed we had only a slab of wood–no mattress, springs, pillow or blanket. Before we were permitted to lie down we were required to kneel on a penance prayer board. This contained hundreds of upright, sharp wires to pierce the knees. The upper section where we were to prostrate ourselves upon our arms was also a mass of sharp wires.
Another day the Mother Superior took me through a long, dark tunnel hall for my next initiation penance. As we entered the chamber, again there were seven candles. As she marched me up under the candles I spotted some ropes dangling from the ceiling with some sort of metal clamps on the ends. She made me stand very close, facing the wall and extending my arms in the air. Quickly she snapped the metal bands securely around each thumb. She then stepped to one side and began to turn a crank which took the ropes straight up until I was slowly hoisted from the floor. When I was suspended on the tips of my bare toes she fastened the handle, walked out without a word and slammed and locked the door. The weight of my body on those thumbs and my toes was excruciating.
I was already whimpering and moaning in misery. I had no idea how long I would stay there. Always in these things, you hung there wondering if you might die before they came back to free you. In the white heat of the waves of unbearable pain which wrack the body and mind, death would be a blessed way out.
As hours stretched interminably into days and nights there was no way to calculate how long you had been there. There was no sun; no sounds other than your own fevered sobbings and screams. It was like being buried alive without food or water. Torment and delirium causes you to loose track of reality and nothing seems real except the ever present torture and pain.
This was another part of their brainwashing technique. I could do nothing but to stand there, screaming and crying. No one would hear or help me or even care. Three, four, six and finally ten agonizing hours crept by and every bone, muscle and nerve in my tortured body was screaming for relief. The maddening, unending pain is indescribable and I also grew hungry and thirsty. When my hands and arms began to swell tightly I believed I was going to die.
I had desperately prayed to all the statues in the room. Eventually I realized the Virgin Mary was not hearing a word I sobbed. Hysterically I shouted and pleaded for help from my patron saint; from St. Jude, St. Bartholomew, and every other idol or saint I could ever remember hearing about. I was surrounded by an unearthly silence, broken only by my own fevered screams and groans and the sputtering candles.
There I hung, wracked with pain and saturated in my own human filth, for there was no break in the torture regime for toilet facilities. Just as I felt I was going completely insane, Mother Superior walked in. Directly on the wall in front of me was an adjustable shelf which she raised to the level of my face. On it she placed a pan of water and a pan containing one small potato.
I was starving for water and food but how was I to get it? Painfully I scooted on my toes, tilting first one arm, then the other, straining to reach the pans. When I managed to reach them, I felt the tissues in my lungs tearing with terrible pain. As a matter of fact, many nuns contract tuberculosis after going through this torture. However, only by enduring such pain and strain could I manage to get water or food. I bumped and spilled most of it.
Nine days later Mother Superior came and released first one thumb and then the other and I collapsed in a faint to the floor. My limbs were swollen and shrieking with pain. My eyes felt as if they were being pushed out of my head and my arms were swollen to three times normal size. No part of my anatomy was free from the throbbing pain and soreness.
Of course I could not move. Two nuns picked me up by the shoulders and feet and took me, moaning incoherently, into the infirmary and laid me on a slab of wood. They cut off all my clothes for I was saturated with my own urine and bowel movements. This was another part of the carefully planned brutalization and dehumanization program, designed to produce mindless robots. Following this episode I could not even walk for two and a half months and would have been happy to die.
One day I was called out and again marched down those dread tunnels, not knowing what misery and pain I faced. She marched me into a room with a straight chair with a high back. Pushing me down into the chair, she then removed my headdress and shoved my head forward in my lap and placed my hands on my knees. Quickly she fastened my head and wrists in stocks so I could not move. This done she positioned a faucet directly over my bare head and adjusted it so that it began on my head, a drop at a time.
I cringed in anticipation for I had witnessed others who had been subjected to this for ten long hours. After a short time the drops hitting in the same spot will break the strongest person. Often I and others would writhe and twist against the binding of the stocks, desperately trying to escape that pounding drop of water, even foaming at the mouth. Screaming and crying is never absent from these horror holes, deep under the ground, where no one with an ounce of humanity or compassion will ever hear. Pleas for mercy only bring longer and worse penances.
Many a nun has gone stark raving mad after being repeatedly subjected to this penance. Do not worry, the convent takes care of this too. The world outside will never know the truth. There are underground dungeons for those who have nervous or mental breakdowns. There will be reports and records of the nun and how she died, all lies.
You must realize that this entire religious structure is based on lies and deception and it is small wonder that at all costs, even human life, the hypocritical cloak of righteousness of the Roman Catholic system must be maintained. They will stop at nothing to protect it. Slander, lies, frame-ups, changing and destroying documents, injury and even murder are standard and acceptable procedure. The average person with a conscience and some sort of moral code will struggle to grasp the enormity and inhuman demonic intelligence which drives this religious monster.
Once I was taken to one of the filthy dungeons with dirt floors. I then had my ankles fastened securely to leather straps in the rings at the top of rods mounted in cement. I was standing with my feet in those rings until my strength failed or I fainted. When that happened I just crumpled over with my chest touching my ankles. After getting to a certain stage of pain and exhaustion there is nothing you can do. I must then stay in this cramped position for two or three days, depending on the whims of my tormentors. No one will come and there was no food, water, or toilet facilities. Bugs crawled over my body.
It is no wonder there is such a cry against such horrors being uncovered and revealed.
The loneliness in the convent is inhuman and cruel, for there are no friends there. Everyone is set up to spy on everyone else and the slightest infraction of rules brings instant and harsh punishment. There were on friendships among the nuns. Suspicion and separation was the order of the day for convent living. We were taught to trust no one and depend upon no one, by a methodical and systematic isolation. The victims could never be allowed to unite to do something about conditions.
Communists followed a similar program in Korean prisoner-of-war camps to prevent any closeness or cooperation between the inmates. Each nun is taught to be a policeman to watch and inform on all others. Betrayal of others causes the informer to be in good standing with Mother Superior. Her approval is desired so strongly that often the sisters make up and exaggerate things in order to gain this kind of favor. Absolute obedience in everything is demanded in the convent and you are wise to learn to obey quickly and without question.
Each time I came in my cell I was required to kneel there, praying for lost humanity, while I suffered and shed more of my blood. Only after this could I lie down on the slab which served as a bed. Promptly at seven minutes before midnight a bell was always tapped and cells unlocked so we all could gather in the inner chapel to pray another hour for lost humanity. At seven minutes till one o’clock we returned to our cells to be locked up again until 4:30 a.m. At this time a bell was tapped and we had exactly five minutes to get dressed and report for duty, barefooted. This is a daily routine. To be late in dressing brought severe punishments.
Each night at 8:00 p.m. we were required to go down a long, dark hall to do a penance in the meditation room. Located there was a tiny room about four foot square, which contained a human skull and candle on a small table. We were to slip to our knees, gaze into the skull and meditate for one hour on death. When this hour was over, a bell was tapped and we returned to our cells where we dropped all our clothes. We then took three interlaced chains with sharp edges (which hung in our cells) and began to lay stripes on our own bodies in imitation of the stripes of Christ on earth.
Sometimes, because of lack of food and strength it was difficult to lay on many stripes. If Mother Superior suspected this, she would order you to strip and have two other nuns to whip you viciously. Following this you would lose all desire for your coffee, bread, or anything else for a few days, because of being in such misery.
This was cloistered convent life, where a merciless system of brainwashing was employed, just as Russia does in the concentration camps. It is exactly the same brutal barbarism, but Rome rides under the banner of religion while communist Russia is openly atheistic.
In the refractory where our meals were served, were two long wooden tables and each nun was assigned a certain place to sit. No one ever sits in another’s place. For breakfast we were given only a big tin cup of strong black coffee with a piece of black bread which weighed exactly four ounces. Although we worked very hard all day there was no lunch, and about 5:00 p.m. we would gather again in the refractory, if we could walk under our own power.
For supper fresh vegetables were cooked together, making a tasteless, watery soup, without seasonings of any kind. This was served in a pie tin with two ounces of black bread and a tin cup of strong black coffee. Two or three times per week we were given one-half glass of skim milk.
This was our monotonous diet, 365 days per year. The only exception was Christmas day when we were each given one tablespoon of molasses. My, what a delight that was, and we ate it very slowly, savoring each drop. All year long we looked forward to this treat.
With the limited food rations, three hundred sixty-five days per year, we never went to bed without gnawing hunger pains. For years I would roll and toss at night, unable to sleep, and wondering how much longer I could endure this continued torment. I assure you that it is sheer misery to live on the brink of controlled starvation constantly. Of course starving persons are weaker and can be more easily coerced and forced into every form of degrading obedience and subservience. This was executed with fiendish delight and a definite purpose to crush the human spirit.
With such a horribly restricted diet, torture, bloodshed and long, hard hours, it is little wonder that bodies fail and become sickly and many nuns die young in the cloistered convents. Remember there are cloistered convents in the United States.
In preparing vegetables, potatoes were boiled with skins on and peeled after cooking. Once while on kitchen duty, I was throwing a pile of these potato peelings in the garbage. I was so hungry I quickly snatched two handfuls from the can and hid them in my clothing. I told no one, for in the convent everyone is watching each other and there are informers everywhere who betray others. That night, in my cell, greedily I gobbled down the potato skins because I was so starved.
The next morning at 9:00 sharp Mother Superior announced with a smirk that I was to do penance and I knew this was not a regular penance day. With sinking heart I went with her to one of the torture chambers. It was a huge room with the usual seven candles. When she tapped a bell, two little nuns appeared, quickly binding my hands and feet together. Mother then ordered one to pinch my nostrils tightly so that I was forced to open my mouth to breathe. She then dumped a heaping tablespoon of hot cayenne pepper in my mouth and I had to choke it down in order to breathe. For two days after this I was plagued with itching, burning hives all over my body. This, for eating a bit of garbage!
Another time I saw a piece of bread lying on a table, and watched it for several days. Finally I took the bread, ate it in my cell, and the next morning Mother Superior again said we were going to do penance. Somehow she found out about the scrap of bread. This time I was taken to a room with a square table and was made to stand at the edge with my hand and wrist strapped on a board.
It was very dark and my eyes adjusted slowly in the dim light. She moved over to one side to manipulate some sort of control and suddenly another heavy board smashed down on the hand and wrist. The blinding pain caused me to slump to the floor, but I could not get loose and was dangling by the helpless, injured hand. Stealing even a mouthful of stale bread was treated as a heinous crime and drew swift and cruel retribution.
As the years dragged by I learned to use a hammer, saw, shovel and anything else a man normally does. We worked very hard, performing heavy manual labor, digging out underground rooms and tunnels, building walls, plastering, etc. Often we were two, three or four miles back in the tunnels. Sometimes we wondered if we even had voices because of the strict rule of silence, and would speak in whispers to each other. The very next morning Mother Superior would call the offenders out and say, “You are going to do penance.” We wondered how she could have heard us. One day we learned that all thirty-five miles of tunnel under the convent were wired so she could hear every whisper.
Working back in the tunnels we listened for the tap of the bell which signaled us to come in for meals. Sometimes, due to fatigue or distance we would arrive late. Because each was in her own place, it was obvious who was tardy. When this happened, we had to ask a nun to hand us our tin cup, pan and tablespoon. We then had to crawl behind each nun, begging for one tablespoon of her food. After crawling to each one, the offenders sat on the floor to eat. This is supposed to humble them by breaking their wicked pride, and also to promote promptness.
Our day in the convent began at 4:30 in the morning when Mother Superior tapped a bell. This signal meant we had exactly five minutes to get dressed. In the beginning I was late a half a minute, but the punishment was so severe for this minor infraction of rules that I never was late again. Raw terror and cruel punishment bring absolute and unquestioning obedience in the convent to every rule and order, no matter how unreasonable or trivial. Lies and deceit covering and concealing such infractions to avoid the dire consequences become a way of life for the nuns.
When we finished dressing, we would march on tiptoes, with downcast eyes, to report to the Mother Superior. There she assigned us our daily chores. These could be scrubbing, washing clothes, ironing, cooking, or other heavy and hard labor assignments.
Washing was done in twelve old-fashioned washtubs with rubboards. We ironed with cast iron flatirons, heated on a stove. Not only did we do the laundry and ironing for our convent but the local priests were free to load us with all of their linens and clothing, which they did. After all, the service, performed by slave labor, was free to them.
Down in the laundry room there were rough cement floors and the heavy washing in twelve tubs caused a lot of soapy water to be sloshed on the floor. We walked around in our bare feet because shoes and stockings were a luxury we were denied in the convent. Suddenly Mother Superior would glide up, terrifying everyone because there is no way to know why she had come. When she made such an appearance, someone invariably had to suffer. Because things were done so quietly in a convent, we learned to sense her presence before she arrived.
One of her favorite tricks in the laundry room was to order one or more nuns to prostrate themselves on the cold, wet, soapy, floor. This done, with a cruel sneer she would order that the victim lick long crosses on the rough cement with her tongue. She watched intently to see if there was the slightest flicker of anger, distaste or hesitation on the face of the one forced to lick the crosses. If she did, she would assign ten to twenty-five more crosses to be done. Believe me, the tongue was always raw and bleeding before she was satisfied, and the victim would be unable to eat or drink for a day or two because of the mangled tongue. Many times Mother would return the very next day, seize the same victim and force her to repeat the crosses again.
Hard manual labor was advocated as a good physical discipline. In our emaciated condition because of the constant torture and systematic starvation we were driven and kept in a state of chronic fatigue and exhaustion. We were property of the Pope and the system, to be worked to death for their pleasure. All the crying and pleading we did would never be heard by anyone who would lift a finger to help us.
Another favored punishment was to compel us to crawl up and down an aisle ten times, upright on the knees. After I made it five or six times my knees were killing me. Drained of strength, I could not continue but collapsed in a faint. Mother Superior shook me roughly, pulled me back on my knees and commanded me to resume crawling. Desperately I tried to finish my assignment. The next day she might order me to do the same thing again and this would rip off the scabs from my injured knees, further bruising and tearing them.
This is typical of torments and tortures to which the little nuns are subjected day after day, year in and year out. There is no mercy, only heartless cruelty and this multiplies and reinforces the dreary hopelessness and despair which grips the entire cloister.
Continually we were told that doing such “penance” was pleasing and brought happiness to God, Who looked down on our misery and suffering, and smiled His approval. Although this was hard to believe, heathens who know no better simply believe what they are taught. Never having read the Bible, we had no way to learn the truth.
Most of us were reared in Roman Catholic teachings and traditions and snatched away from family and friends at an early age. It took a while for the awful truth and scope of the deception to soak in. When it did, it produced atheists who hated anything associated with God or the saints. Vicious hatred and violence then floods the disillusioned and embittered heart.
There was no bath tub in this convent, only a metal, horse watering tank and we were only permitted to have a bath when Mother Superior ordered it. Even when bathing I wore my scapular, although I shed all my other clothes. We were taught that the first Saturday after the death of a Roman Catholic the Virgin Mary descends into purgatory. Whoever she finds there wearing a scapular, she will release. I was bound by these and other religious fables and lies, but did not know any better. I was taught to accept as truth everything Mother Superior said.
In the convent there was a huge painting in a certain room which depicted all horrors of tormented men, women, children and even babies in the awful flames of purgatory. The agony and misery was so graphically portrayed that it actually seemed real. We were marched in on occasion to meditate on the tortures of the damned for a long period. After this session Mother Superior would address the nuns and say that they had better go and work another penance on their bodies, because those poor people were begging to escape the awful burning flames there.
There were many days when I would deliberately burn my own body and spill some more of my blood because of my conviction that as I suffered it would help these miserable people to be delivered. I often say that if the mass and purgatory were taken from the Roman Catholic system it would eliminate 90% of her income and she would starve to death. This evil Babylonian system drains both the living and the dead for funds to finance her cancerous spread throughout the world.
The nuns cells were bare except for a statue of the Virgin Mary holding an infant Jesus. As I dropped on the sharp wires which lined the prayer board and prostrated my arms on still other penetrating wire, I would pray earnestly for lost humanity. I had been taught that my suffering and bloodshed would help to save them. I believed that my poor old grandmother would be released sooner from purgatory (our family priest had assured us she went there at death) because of my sufferings. Often, in spite of the misery, I was spurred on to continue in this painful posture longer, fervently hoping to speed her release.
We were taught that for every drop of blood we shed in the convent we would have 100 days less to spend in purgatory. When nuns worked in the kitchen or other places underground they often wounded themselves to spill blood for this purpose. We had it hammered into our thinking that, as we spilled our own blood, as we whipped and lacerated our bodies, tortured and tormented them, we were gaining indulgence for ourselves and others from purgatory. Remember there is no hope in a convent; nothing to look forward to except continuous pain, exhaustion, starvation and finally death. (Leviticus 19:28).
To those who have been taught the truth of salvation through faith in Jesus Christ and know of the marvelous grace of God, it may seem incredible that anyone could be so deluded and ignorant. I remind you that if you had been taught nothing else all your life and, if as an impressionable child you had been spirited away to be brainwashed and finally imprisoned in a convent, you would not know any better either.
It took ten terrible years in the convent before I finally realized the awful truth that I had been duped. I was finally convinced that the Virgin Mary, Jesus, Joseph, St. Peter, and all the other saints were simply unfeeling metal, wood or plaster statues. It was a shock when I knew they could do nothing to answer all the fervent prayers poured out to them by faithful and deluded people all over the world.
It is surprising how tenacious my faith in all those false idols was. How long it took to really realize the bitter truth about them and the deception in which we had been snared. Bitterly, I came to believe that, if there was a God, He certainly either was dead or cared nothing about humanity. Oh, the hours I and others have spent in earnest, sobbing prayer at the feet of these dumb statues. (Jeremiah 10:19).
One regular monthly event we always dreaded was the visit of the father confessor to the convent. Each time it was a different priest but they were all basically the same. I hated going and always attempted to get in the back row. I lived in a convent so long that I would never trust any priest. All of the ones I met were rotten and vile. The ordeal of confession sometimes took all day. One by one the nuns had to file in to the room where the priest was waiting. Never did I see a priest in the convent who had not been drinking.
The room was bare except for the inevitable statue of the Virgin Mary. The priest perched in a straight-backed chair and the nun must come in and kneel before him. If she got out without being defiled and forced into some unspeakable depravity she was fortunate. No one ever interrupted the priest and the woman, no matter what transpired. One after another the nuns would enter and leave the room.
At other times it was not unusual for the Mother Superior to usher in a drunken priest who would pick out a nun and take her to a cell with him for more liquor and sex. The Mother Superior was a hard and carnal woman who had borne numbers of illegitimate children of priests and usually she drank with the visitors. The priest was well fed, healthy, and strong and lived a relatively easy life; therefore a poor, weakened nun was no match for him, to fight him off. Because she was helpless, he did whatever he pleased and violated her any way he chose. There is no one to defend or help her and none to even care about her being forced into harlotry. Because Mother Superior locked the cell there was no way to escape.
Often I have nursed these little nuns after they had been brutalized and shamefully abused. Only the priest’s imagination limited the kind of indignities he could inflict on his victim. I saw and experienced all kinds of sickening evidences of the wildest kinds of lust being exercised in the convents. The body of the nun often looked as if it were something to be thrown out to the hogs, covered with dozens of bruises and other marks. The people who say I exaggerate are either the priests, trying to squelch the truth, or those who have never been inside the convents. Because I was there, I know the truth, which is monstrous and shocking!
Can you imagine the terrible position of the nun confronted by the priest? If she displeased or refused him, he would complain to the Mother Superior. Putting their two evil minds together they would come up with things to do to that nun which normal minds would never imagine. In a day or two after she resisted the priest, Mother Superior would call her aside to do penance again. There was no choice and with sinking heart she would be led down into the dungeons where the awful reprisal dreamed up by the priest and Mother Superior would be executed.
Some mornings when we were preparing to go to work Mother Superior would call out ten or fifteen of us. We were trembling and apprehensive, never knowing what was coming. We were never allowed to question; only obey, like mindless machines. Would we be punished, go to the penance chambers or what? Then she abruptly would give the order for us to line up and remove all our clothes. With sinking hearts we did as we were told. We knew from experience what was coming next.
Half starved and marked with many scars, with shaved heads, we must have been a sorry sight. Because there are absolutely no mirrors allowed in a convent, I had no idea what I looked like for all the years of my incarceration. When I would catch scant, forbidden glances at others with their gaunt, drawn faces, sunken eyes, teeth falling out, and skeletal starved bodies, I could hardly imagine that I too looked like this.
On one occasion after we were stripped, three drunken, leering Catholic priests lurched in and eyed the nude girls lustfully and each chose a partner to go to a cell with him. Remember, these are cloistered convents and the priest is free to do anything he pleases behind the cloak of rotten religion. This same wicked whoremonger will return to his flock to say mass and hear confessions of people he dupes into believing they can be absolved from their sins. Full of fornication, perversion and vice, he acts as their god!
Can you imagine what all these vile and hurtful abuses did to me? I had no idea that anyone could harbor such hatred, resentment and bitterness inside. In my mind, over and over I would plot and wish for the death of the Mother Superior and other tormentors. How I would relish these delicious thoughts of vengeance and hatred! The convent did this to me. I certainly was not like this when I entered.
After all the nuns had been broken to the will of the priests, they would become very angry if we resisted anything they wanted to do. Often we were slapped in the mouth by an irritated drunken priest. I had my own front teeth knocked loose from being punched in the face. Often we were thrown on the floor and kicked in the stomach. Being pregnant was no protection, for the priest knew that baby was going to be murdered anyway when it was born. Many babies are born in the convents because of the evil corruption of this foul system, cloaked in religious garments. No wonder Babylon is slated for complete destruction. She is unspeakably vile!
I saw scores of babies born in the convents. Most were abnormal and deformed and seldom was one normal. With my hands I have delivered many, many of them, therefore I know. With my eyes I have seen the horror of it all and the world must be told of what goes on in those chambers of horrors.
Many have said I exaggerate and that these things are not so, but I have yet to be hauled into court to refute the charges. They would have to open the cloisters and this they dare not do. After being snared in this rotten system for twenty-two years, I know whereof I speak.
Normal young expectant mothers eagerly anticipate the arrival of their precious baby. Everything is ready, nursery, crib, clothing, and everyone is happy with her. By contrast, a little nun in the convent dreads the moment when she gives birth. The child is the product of a shameful, illicit union with a drunken priest which was forced on her. She knows from bitter experience that the baby will only be permitted to live four or five hours at the very most. It will never be cleaned or wrapped in a warm blanket for Mother Superior will put her hand over its mouth and pinch its nostrils to snuff out its life.
This is why there are lime pits in all the convents. Babies’ bodies are tossed in these holes to be destroyed. Pray for the government to force the convents to open their doors to release the prisoners and let the whole world see what horrors are hidden behind those doors of cruel religious hypocrisy.
If this happens, I assure you that even the Catholic people will agree to the closing of the convents as they did in Mexico in 1934. They have no idea what is transpiring there either, or they would never expose their daughters to such barbarious debauchery and torture.
The convents in old Mexico have been turned into government museums which you can tour for a modest fee. You should go and see with your own eyes and touch with your hands the things of which I speak. Go down into the dungeons, through the tunnels and torture chambers and see all the fiendish devices, demonically conceived, to inflict suffering on the bodies of helpless nuns. See for yourself the cells in which nuns were locked each night and examine the beds, and the prayer boards.
This should give you a burden to pray for hundreds of precious little girls who have been deceived and enticed into entering these ungodly prisons for a life of suffering and utter despair by the Roman Catholic system. Remember I had a mother and father who loved me dearly. When they consented for me to enter the convent they had no idea that I was going to be subjected to such degradation. They were assured that this was the highest calling, the finest expression of their faith and love to God, to give a daughter to such service.
Sealed up in the convents until death, we would never be able to leave and let people outside know what actually takes place inside. With all communications cut off, we were beyond the protection of the law or loved ones and friends. There is no hopeless despair and black depression quite as smothering as that which seizes you when the realization of all this begins to sink in. To know that there is just no escape possible is maddening for there is no end or relief in sight.
Roman Catholics loudly proclaim that anyone can go into any open or closed order convent. There is an outside chapel and what is called the speak room. You are not even admitted there without an escort. If you were taking in food for a specific nun, typically you would walk up the front of the room and press a bell. This would activate a gate containing three shelves to swing open to receive your gifts for the nun inside. When the bell is tapped, you may be sure that Mother Superior is seated just behind the heavy black veil draped over the big iron gate guarding the inner part of the convent.
You will not be allowed to go any further but may speak to the Mother Superior through the veil. If you asked permission to speak to a specific nun, you might be permitted to converse with her, but only through the veil. If questions are asked as to her happiness, health, food, ect., the nun always answers affirmatively. After all, Mother Superior is sitting there, monitoring every word.
If she were to complain or reveal any of the unpleasant details of life inside, there would be swift and harsh action to correct her as soon as the visitor left. There are good reasons for them to refuse to let relatives see the nuns in person. After a time on convent fare and treatment, the eyes are sunken in the head and the body so wasted away, pale and unhealthy that seeing all this would bring an indignant outcry.
Many were the nights I was extremely exhausted and badly in need of sleep, but ravenous hunger kept me from rest. Going to breakfast meant only a scrap of bread and a cup of black coffee which did not even take the edge off of that everpresent hunger. To those who have always had enough to eat it will be difficult to understand the plight of those who go to bed hungry every night. This is tragic in impoverished, backward nations. It becomes even more evil when you realize that what I am describing is deliberately planned and induced with cunning and devilish cruelty.
Remember that there is not a night or day when those little nuns imprisoned in the cloistered convents around the world do not go to bed hungry. They are sick, wounded, hurt, homesick, heartsick, discouraged and filled with despair. While we look to the Lord Jesus Christ for hope, these poor women have no hope. Release into a lost eternity is the best they can look for.
Occasionally I meet Roman Catholics who vow they have been inside the cloisters and that what I report is not true. You must remember that Catholics are quite free to lie to protect the church and need not even confess this in confessional. It is permissable, just as it is alright to steal up to $40.00 before theft has to be confessed. (Exodus 20:15,16).
My fury toward the succession of Mother Superiors was unchecked. Each time she singled me out for penance or some real or imaginary infraction of convent rules she would sadisticaly inflict some diabolical and vicious suffering designed to destroy my body and mind. My mind was so filled with schemes of violence and retaliation I lived for the bitter day when I would be able to repay some of the misery I had endured.
All of this awful violence and hatred in me was created by the endless stream of cruelties, deprivations, harassments and unbelievable sufferings heaped on me by my captors. I often fantasized what a joy it would be to kill one of the brutal, lecherous priests who regularly violated us.
In my twenty-two years in the convent, I saw three Mother Superiors die. Because I was a nurse, one day two nuns came to fetch me to tend Mother Superior who was critically ill. A Roman Catholic doctor from the outside had been called in to examine her. He gave me strict instructions concerning some powerful prescription medication he left for her. All of the hatred I held for this ungodly woman, her cruelty and the wicked system she represented boiled up in me. I would have my revenge, and this woman would die. I would see to that!
The day was long as I waited for my chance. The nuns were locked in their cells and the lights went out at 9:30. Time drug on until finally the midnight call to prayer was finished with the lights out for the night. I picked up a number of the tablets and dissolved them in water, a deliberate, massive overdose.
Eagerly, I roused the half-conscious woman and painstakingly forced her to gulp down every drop of the lethal potion. As I eased her back on the pillows I gloated. Soon she would die a horrible death and my vengeance on her would be sweet indeed. I checked her pulse, which was escalating rapidly, as was her respiration. In a short time she began to moan and toss and finally went into violent convulsions. I smiled evilly, for years of abuse had changed me into a bitter, heartless monster, bent on murder.
Suddenly I awoke to the realization of what I had done. With a shock I knew that I would probably be held accountable for her death. There was no way to imagine what they might do to me because of it. Frantically I grabbed a stomach pump and worked furiously to save her. I began massaging her with cold water. At long last her respiration and blood pressure dropped to normal levels and she drifted off into a deep sleep. I could relax again and reflect on my own narrow escape.
I knew that in a part of the deep tunnel system under the convent, there was a place where I had often heard horrible screams. They came from behind a heavy locked door. Mother Superior had repeatedly warned us not to go there. This was a rather pointless admonition since none of us had any keys, however my curiousity about the place was overwhelming.
With my patient finally out of danger and the convent asleep, I remembered. Mother Superior’s keys were in her desk, so I grabbed them and raced downstairs. Two stories underground, by the flickering candlelight, I found the forbidden door which I had wondered about. I fumbled nervously with the big ring of keys and finally found the right one. The huge door swung quietly open, revealing a hall lined with nineteen tiny cells. All had barred windows in the doors.
I gasped in horror as I peered inside the cells to see white, ravaged and drawn faces of little nuns with whom I had eaten, prayed and worked. Each had disappeared suddenly and without any explanation. One in particular I recognized and asked her how long she had been there and other questions. Her dull, lifeless eyes were glazed with awful terror, but she would say nothing at all. Paralyzing fear rules the convent and these prisoners did not know
***NOTE..I JUST CHECKED THE ARTICLE LINKS BELOW…AS I WROTE BEFORE BECAUSE OF THE SERIOUSNESS OF THE INFORMATION THE NWO MEMBERS HAVE DIRECTED THE LINKS TO SHOW THE ARTICLE DOESN’T EXIST…
SEARCH FOR IT ON THE SEARCH ENGINES…NOTE THE MAIN SEARCH ENGINES ARE CONTROLLED BY THE NWO…( AS CRAZY AS THIS READS THIS IS DOCUMENTED FACT BY HIGHLY RESPECTED EX INSIDERS, TOP HIGHLY RESPECTED INVESTIGATORS ***
***NOTE I AM MIRRORING THIS ARTICLE IN IT’S ENTIRETY TO BE ANOTHER SOURCE THAT IS AVAILABLE FOR ALL OF US. MANY ARTICLES, VIDEOS, PDFs, ETC. HAVE AND ARE BEING REMOVED FROM THE INTERNET..INFORMATION THAT WE NEED.
***NOTE…NWO MEMBERS HAVE TAMPERED WITH THE BELOW LINKS…USE SEARCH ENGINES TO FIND THE ARTICLES…THEY DON’T WANT YOU TO GET THE TRUTH …THESE ARE COLD BLOODED TORTURERS, KILLERS..OF INNOCENT BABIES, CHILDREN, WOMEN & MEN OF ALL AGES..!!!
*** PLEASE DO THE SAME. COPY ALL TRUTH ARTICLES, VIDEOS / RE UPLOAD THEM UNDER YOUR YOUBUTE, ETC. CHANNEL. OPEN A BLOG , (EASY, SIMPLE, FAST), COPY & PASTE THE TRUTH ON YOUR BLOGS, WEB SITES – NOW !!!
***YOU CAN MAKE AN INFINITE IMPACT FOR THE TRUTH, FOR THE GOOD TO WIN ! VISUALIZE – THE WATER AT A LAKE ON A CALM DAY – IT IS JUST LIKE GLASS – NO RIPPLES. NOW THROW A SMALL PEBBLE INTO THE WATER, A RIPPLING EFFECT GOES THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE LAKE. MAKE THAT DIFFERENCE….NOW!!!
** CRITICAL **
!!!ALERT TO ALL COMPUTER HACKERS / GENIUSES / THOSE IN POSITIONS TO MAKE A POSITIVE SOLUTION….. NOTE WHO NEW WORLD ORDER MEMBERS ARE & SHUT THEM DOWN NOW.. YOU KNOW HOW…
***WITH OUT MONEY, CREDIT, TRANSPORTATION, WEAPONS, AMMO, CONTACTS ( PEOPLE LIKE THEM ), SUPPORT SYSTEMS (FAMILY MEMBERS, FRIENDS), WITH OUT TRANSPORTATION, WITHOUT HOMES ( MANY OF THEM HAVE FORCED OUT, INJECTED, INFECTED, DISABLED THROUGH SICKNESS BY CHEMICAL, INJECTIONS, KILLED ), WITHOUT THEIR HEALTH ( WHAT THEY HAVE DONE TO Us…THE NON N.W.O. MEMBERS..MADE US SO SICK WE WISH WERE WE DEAD..THEIR STANDARD OPERATING PROCEDURE ) ETC. THEY CAN DO NOTHING!
***** HOW ******
1, FIRE THEM FROM THEIR JOBS,
2. CANCEL OUT THEIR BANK ACCOUNTS,
3. CANCEL OUT THEIR CREDIT SOURCES,
4. REPOSSES THEIR TRANSPORTATION,
5. TAKE THEIR WEAPONS, AMMO,
6. SEPARATE THEM FROM THEIR SUPPORT SYSTEMS – FAMILIES,
7. REMOVE THEM FROM THEIR HOMES,
8. INFECT, INJECT THEM..SO THEY ARE SOOO SICK THEY WISH THEY ARE DEAD… ( LIKE THEY HAVE DONE TO OUR GRANDPARENTS, OUR ANCESTORS, OUR LOVED ONES,… (BABIES, CHILDREN, WOMEN & MEN OF ALL AGES, TO OUR FRIENDS, TO …Us )
9. SHUT DOWN THEIR CONTACTS..DO THE SAME TO THEM ( STEPS 1 – 7 ) SO SICK THAT THEY CAN NOT HELP IN BRINGING IN THIS HELLISH NEW WORLD ORDER –
( NOTE MORE AND MORE OF NEW WORLD ORDER MEMBERS ARE AWAKENING TO WHAT IS REALLY HAPPENING, WHAT HAS BEEN DONE TO THEM…EX. FUKUSHIMA’S MELT DOWN, RELEASING THE WORST RADIOACTIVE FALLOUT…MOX FUEL, WHAT HAS BEEN DONE TO THE EARTH…THE GULF OIL DISASTER, AND OTHER CRITICAL EVENTS BUT THERE ARE STILL MANY WHO ARE STILL CONTINUING THEIR HARMING, INJECTING, INJECTING, THEIR “ACCIDENTS”, ETC. OF GOOD, DECENT PEOPLE…THESE MUST BE STOPPED AND THAT IS RIGHT NOW !!!
PLEASE READERS COMPLETELY COPY PDF…GET THIS TO TRUTH WEB SITES & BLOGS…HAVE THEM PUT THIS PDF ON THEIR SITES IN IT ENTIRETY…PLEASE START A BLOG….WORDPRESS.COM, BLOGSPOT.COM..AND PUT THE PDF ON YOUR SITES…
MANY TOP ARTICLES ARE BEING REMOVED THAT HAS THE TRUTH DAILY…DEPENDING ON THE TOPIC & SUBJECT …MANY ARE REMOVED WITH IN THE HOUR OR SOONER…NO EXAGGERATION..
EXTREMELY IMPORTANT….THIS MUST BE PUT ON THE INTERNET..TO THOSE THAT CAN PLEASE COPY BELOW AND MAKE IT AVAILABLE TO ALL THE “GOOD” PEOPLE….THIS EXPOSES THE TAKE OVER BY THE JESUIT / ILLUMINATI ( BOTH ABOVE 33RD DEGREE FREEMASONS )..PLEASE COPY THE WHOLE PDF AND PUT IT INTO REGULAR PAGES SO THAT IT CAN BE COPIED COMPLETELY AND MORE SOURCES CAN BE COPIED AND RE POSTED ..
* CRITICAL RELATED ARTICLES…COPY THEM COMPLETELY ..GET THEM TO TRUTH WEB SITES & TRUTH BLOGS NOW….ARTICLES, VIDEOS, PDFs, ETC. THAT EXPOSE THE LIES, REVEAL THE TRUTHS ARE BEING REMOVED WITH IN THE 1/2 HOUR NOW….IF THIS IS DONE THE INFORMATION IS GONE..SO OTHERS LIKE US WON’T KNOW THE TRUTH !!!
REGISTER FOR A BLOG…FREE, SIMPLE, EASY TO START ..JUST COPY & PASTE, ADD A TITLE, TAGS ( KEYWORDS..THAT GETS TO YOUR ARTICLES, ETC. ) AND PUBLICIZE..THAT IS ALL THERE IS TO IT
TOP INFO FROM TOP SOURCES, EX INSIDERS, EXPERTS, ETC.
*** NOTE..CLICK ON TITLE TO OPEN LINK
1. EMPEROR CONSTANTINE WAS THE FIRST POPE !!!HOW CONSTANTINE ORDERED THE FIRST ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH & CATHOLIC BIBLE ..WHICH HE HAD HIS SCHOLARS BLEND PAGANISM & CATHOLICISM TOGETHER BUT NEIGHTER WOULD BE RECOGNIZED BY PAGANS NOR CATHOLICS.
23. The “Secret Covenant” of the Jewish Secret Society Known As the Order of the Illuminati ..SHOCKING WHAT, HOW, ETC. THEY ARE DOING TO US, OUR CHILDREN, TO OUR GRANDPARENTS, OUR ANCESTORS..TO BRING IN THIS ONE WORLD CONTROL….A MUST READ
PLEASE GET THE BELOW PDF. TO TRUTH WEB SITES & TRUTH BLOGS…THERE WILL BE MANY AGAINST THE TRUTH FROM BEING AVAILABLE ON THE WEB ( NWO MEMBERS..AS OBAMA, & OTHERS TALK ABOUT IN THEIR SPEECHES )
ROBERT SUNGENIS PhD EXPOSES THE LIES
***** Page 4- A Review of “EWTN: A Network Gone Wrong” ~ Robert Sungenis, Ph.D. Popular Media. … That must take faith… I really think this is something to assess on a case by case … I’ll have to save the PDF file and read it later. … I never watched Mother Angelica much, but what I saw, I liked. …
ECT GOES THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE LAKE. MAKE THAT DIFFERENCE….NOW!!!
IS REALLY HAPPENING, WHAT HAS BEEN DONE TO THEM…EX. FUKUSHIMA’S MELT DOWN, RELEASING THE WORST RADIOACTIVE FALLOUT…MOX FUEL, WHAT HAS BEEN DONE TO THE EARTH…THE GULF OIL DISASTER, AND OTHER CRITICAL EVENTS BUT THERE ARE STILL MANY WHO ARE STILL CONTINUING THEIR HARMING, INJECTING, INFECTING, THEIR “ACCIDENTS”, ETC. OF GOOD, DECENT PEOPLE…THESE MUST BE STOPPED AND THAT IS RIGHT NOW !!!
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