MY FIRST ENCOUTER WITH THE SPIRIT

I was only 9 or 10 years old—quiet and innocent, with no understanding of what might exist beyond God. I grew up in a country deeply rooted in strong cultural and Orthodox traditions. As you read this, I know your mind might instinctively start to put pieces together, scanning and labeling the country, the people, and the traditions I speak of. But let me take you back to that moment, unfiltered and raw.

It was around 3 a.m.—spirit time—when I first encountered the Aboriginal lady spirit. That night remains etched in my memory. The air was heavy with an eerie stillness, broken only by the distant howling of dogs and the occasional rustle of wild animals. My parents' house, nestled close to the mountain, was always alive with the symphony of nature, but this night felt different. The familiar sounds carried an unusual weight, as though the world itself was holding its breath.

At that age, I didn’t know that the time between 3 and 4 a.m. is known as the spirit hour—a sacred window when the veil between worlds grows thin and spirits wander freely.

I only knew that something felt different. The dogs barked with urgency, their cries echoing in the darkness, and the stillness outside seemed almost expectant, as if waiting for me to notice.

It was then that I saw her—a figure cloaked in an aura of quiet strength and wisdom, her presence both startling and comforting. The Aboriginal lady spirit had come to me, and though I didn’t yet understand her purpose, I knew this moment was the beginning of something extraordinary.