Dorothy Chitty - An Angel Set Me Free - And other incredible true stories of the afterlife

And other incredible true

stories of the afterlife

I dedicate this book to five of my angels—

my grandchildren Thomas, Byron, Harrison,

Eliot and India.

Cover Page

Title Page An Angelset me free And other incredible true stories of the afterlife

Dedication I dedicate this book to five of my angels— my grandchildren Thomas, Byron, Harrison, Eliot and India.

Preface

Chapter 1 The Angels in My Life

Chapter 2 The Angels We Know

Chapter 3 Angels We Don’t Recognise

Chapter 4 Advice from the Angels

Chapter 5 Psychic Children

Chapter 6 Psychic Animals

Chapter 7 Healing Angels

Chapter 8 Miracles from the Afterlife

Learning to Listen

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Other Books By

Copyright

About the Publisher

Angels are always around us. In fact, they are watching over you right now as you read this book. Whether you believe in them or not, they have been guiding you since the day you were born and chances are they have helped you out of umpteen scrapes you’re not even aware of. That’s what they do.

Many people consult me to find out about the spirit world after they have lost a loved one, wanting to understand more about where their father, mother, grandparent, sibling, child or partner has gone and what they are doing now. Other people come to me when something extraordinary has happened to them that can’t be explained by the laws of nature and science. Or they might turn up on my doorstep when they have a big life decision to make and they need some guidance. Whatever the question, I close my eyes and pray and the spirits come to me bringing comfort and answers for the person across the room.

However, in this book I want to explain that to a certain extent we can all do this for ourselves by learning to watch, listen, ask and be aware. I run seminars in which I teach people how to open up to the spirit world, but here I decided to tell you some stories about angels helping people on earth in order to describe how the process works. Once you understand this, you can ask the angels for help yourself at any time.

And it’s important to ask. Sure, angels will help you when you haven’t asked, even if you think the whole concept is fanciful. But once you learn how to be in touch with spirit, your life will be immeasurably enriched in all sorts of ways.

Angels can help with practical life decisions such as which house to buy and which partner to marry. They can warn us about danger and sometimes even rescue us if we ignore the warning. They can heal sickness and comfort the bereaved. I’ve got a wide range of stories in this book, from the funny (such as the woman whose skirt was tucked in her knickers as she walked through Reading train station) to the terrifying (the soldier in Iraq whose armoured vehicle narrowly avoided being blown up by a roadside bomb).

In most (but not all) of the stories, the people concerned were in some way following the wrong path in life. They’d got side-tracked and were trapped in situations that weren’t doing them any good. Maybe they were in the wrong career, or had become too obsessed with wealth and status; some people had slipped into careless disregard for their own safety or that of others; a few got bogged down by grief and depression: there are dozens of ways in which we get stuck in life. It’s happened to me as well, as I’ll explain in chapter 1. No one’s immune.

The point is that listening to angels can get you back on track and release you from anxiety about the future. All will be well, for you and everyone you care about, when you lead a spiritually aware life. That doesn’t need to mean worship in a church, but simply treating others (including animals) as you would like to be treated yourself.

Angels will help you to make your life the best it can possibly be. Listen to them, and they will set you free.

‘Come on, Dolly Daydream,’ Dad used to say to me at least twenty times a day, when he was trying to get me to come to the table for tea, or put my nightie on for bed. ‘You’re in a world of your own.’

He was right—I was. I didn’t realise at that stage that my world was different from other people’s. I just knew that there were always characters around me who weren’t members of our family, right from when I was a small child in my cot. It was a big old wooden cot, and one of my earliest memories is of five people bending over it and looking at me lovingly. Of course I couldn’t count at that age, but somehow I knew in my head that there were five. They looked so nice that it didn’t occur to me to be scared. I felt very safe and protected with them there and it wasn’t until I was much older that I looked back and realised they were angels, and that no one else in the house could see them.

I had a brother who was six years older than me and a sister who was three years older, but I was a very solitary child, perfectly content with my own company—and that of the angels who surrounded me. Occasionally I would surprise adults with the things I came out with. As Mum and I walked along the road one day, I pointed to a woman on the other side.

‘That lady is going to die soon,’ I said.

‘Goodness!’ Mum exclaimed. ‘What makes you say that?’ I was only three or four, so a bit young to know about death.

I frowned. ‘I just know.’

Sure enough, the lady did pass away shortly afterwards and I heard the adults saying she had died of duck egg poisoning. It made me too scared to eat duck eggs, and to this day I always avoid them!

I started in the local Catholic school at the age of five, and we had an assembly in the church every morning. A kind man in a rough-textured brown suit used to sit next to me and explain what the Latin sermon was about and I listened, fascinated by the beauty of it all. He never told me his name but in my child’s brain I assumed that he was God, and that’s how I came to think of him. Woe betide me, though, when I mentioned to one of the nuns that ‘God’ had been speaking to me. I soon learned not to refer to my brown-suited friend any more because they were very liberal in their use of the strap at that school, particularly for what they thought of as blasphemy.

Sometimes the man in the brown suit took me out of school to a nearby park. I loved riding on the big wooden roundabout but was too little to climb up myself, so he lifted me up to stand on the platform and span it around. We had to cross several busy roads to get there but I never came to any harm. One day I stopped in front of the sweet shop window to peer in at all the tempting goodies on display. Suddenly I realised I couldn’t see the reflection of my friend, although I could see myself clearly.

‘That’s right,’ he said, reading my mind. ‘Not everyone can see me.’

Gradually I learned not to mention him to anyone at school because I got teased so much. ‘She’s the one who talks to God,’ the other girls would mock. They wouldn’t let me join in their games in the playground because I was thought of as a kind of oddball, an outsider.

I still hadn’t learned to censor myself and sometimes I passed on things I had been told by an angel. One day a girl called Carol was crying. I was always drawn to anyone who was sad, so I went over to her. I knew her father had been injured in the war and that there was something wrong with his lungs, and I also knew that he wasn’t going to live much longer.