The Olive Wood Cross: Spiritual Seasons of an Earthly Garden

By Aurora Gaia

The Olive Wood Cross is a sweeping spiritual sager spanning the life of Jackie Spencer. Walking her life with an open, loving heart she questions life’s challenges of a loveless father and husband. Inspired by the love she has for her mother and children she never loses her optimism. She finds the courage to overcome grand adversary by drawing on her connection with and love of the Divine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press AU
• Release date: Aug 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781504321969

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Copyright © 2020 Aurora Gaia.

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ISBN: 978-1-5043-2191-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-2196-9 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date:   08/10/2020

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Foreword

Introduction

How To Read This Book

1     A Walk in my Earthly Garden

2     Spirit Self

3     The Watcher

4     The Child Within

5     Grandparents

6     We Are Goin’ a Visitin’

7     Watching the World go by

8     When Irish Eyes are Smiling

9     My Daddy’s Coming Home

10   My Life begins to change

11   My Dearest Uncle Merve

12   Life, a Cycle of Actions and Repercussions

13   The Heavenly Garden

14   Dearest Lelly

15   Uncle Ken West

16   Tiamat Spirit Fire

17   My First True Friendship

18   Is My God Angry with Me?

19   The Gift

20   Goodbye Sweetie Pie

21   I Dream of Past Magic

22   Mystery of Boys

23   His Janie

24   The Passing of my Teenage Years

25   Virginity and all that stuff!

26   The Seed of Hate

27   A Woman of Courage

28   The Salvation Boarding House

29   The Seedy Side of Life

30   A Promising Young Woman

31   Lovely, Lovely, Jackie Starr

32   A Woman. A Daughter. A Wife

33   Goodbye Phet

34   Psychic Onset

35   My Hero, My Husband, My Heartache, My Horror!

36   All a Bit Spooky

37   A Blessing in Disguise

38   Rats in Boxes…

39   Toad House

40   Just Keep One Step Ahead

41   The Beast in My Bed

42   The New Age

43   Divine Chaos

44   The Destruction of Our Physical Body

45   Astral Nightmare’s

46   NeiFa Ish Far Nar Far

47   Please Explain

48   Jesus my Friend, my Brother, my Guide

49   The Oyster

Postscript One

Postscript Two

Postscript Three

Postscript Four

Postscript Five

The Epilogue

About the Author

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my friend and Master Teacher, Master Jesus.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Anne for all her help with this book and my beautiful Angel daughter for her undying support and continuous help in completing this project.

Foreword

My first memory of my lovely mum was when I was approximately eighteen months old. I was sitting straight backed, in the middle of the hallway with the open front door to my left, dressed in my nappy. The warm, bright sunshine beamed in gently through the front door. I happily banged and clanked on kitchen saucepans and lids with a wooden spoon. I remember being incredibly content. As I played my merry saucepan symphony, my gorgeous mother, who at that time I called the pretty lady, in my head, because I couldn’t really speak yet and I still didn’t know what a mother was, walked from the kitchen down the hall to where I was playing. Her dark, wavy hair bobbing around her shoulders. She was the most beautiful lady I had ever seen and was to remain like that in my thoughts for my lifetime. I felt completely safe when she was around and always new all was right in my world.

The memoirs you are about to read are a collection of stories from my mother’s life. They have been selected from my mum’s many life stories because they retell the making of her formidable nature. My mother is tenacious and will not be broken. These stories tell of all the things that tried to break her, but she prevailed, somewhat scarred and bloodied at times, but prevail she did.

I would like you to know that this collection of stories, that for the most part, speak of her major challenges in life, are not the only stories in her compendium of tales. One of my happiest memories as a girl growing up was to sit with my mum drinking numerous cups of tea listening to her tell me stories from her life. They made me cry or laugh and sometimes I would cry and laugh at the same time.

One of my favourite stories was when my Great, Great Ninna thought that Jesus Christ had come to the door in the guise of a beggar on Christmas Eve. My Great, Great Ninna was a God fearing Irish Roman Catholic so of course the Christian thing to do was to give Beggar Jesus all of the Christmas Eve dinner. Christmas Eve dinner consisted of a roasted turkey, roast veggies, gravy, steamed pudding and the best bottle of my Great, Great Grandfather’s medicinal Brandy. By the time my Great, Great Grandfather Sid, returned home hungry after a hard day’s work what greeted him was,

Now, now, now Sid, Sydney, it was Jesus Christ, Sid! Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ came to our door in the guise of a beggar at Christmas Sid! It was a test! I had to Sid! I couldn’t let the Christ go hungry at Christmas!

Molly, that was my Christmas Eve dinner you gave away! It wasn’t the Christ! It was a Beggar, a Beggar who is right now eating my Christmas Eve dinner and drinking my medicinal Brandy!

No, no, no, now, now, now Sid, it was the Christ! I promise you!

Well, your Beggar Jesus is making me go hungry tonight!

The next day Sid went for his daily sanity walk and when he returned home, he plonked himself down on his chair at the kitchen table and with a devilish grin said to Molly,

So, Molly, I just thought you’d like to know that while I was on my walk, I happen to see your Jesus Christ… He was lying in the gutter, drunk, outside of Chardin’s Hotel! I knew it was him because he was clutching my bottle of medicinal Brandy and the remains of a roasted turkey to his chest singing a sea chanty about naked women! Geez, am I glad that the Christ didn’t go hungry this Christmas!

My life has been opposing sides of one coin. One side held all the magic, love, joy, safety and happiness my mum bought into my world and the other side was a dark and scary world that my mum fought to keep me and my brother’s safe from. I am so grateful to her for what she did. She faced something the no mother, woman, or person should ever have to endure. When I was a young teenager, I asked her why we couldn’t leave this dark world sooner. I didn’t understand! But now as a grown woman I realise my beautiful mum was trapped in an evil spider’s web that was impossible to escape from for many, many years. Fortunately, as soon as we had the means to escape, we did. It is interesting, during the height of the dark years my mum and I would escape on day trips to beautiful places. We would go to nice cafes, theatre shows, movies, musicals and beautiful mountain and coast road drives, and there we would talk about the life we were going to live. But we talked about it as if it was in the present. We would say, we live in a little cute house with a lovely garden, we have a pond, I play music and you paint, we have a little dog and we do lovely things all the time and there is no one there to hurt us.

Curiously, that is the reality of our lives today. We didn’t know it at the time, but we were using the Law of Attraction to will our beautiful future into existence. Thankfully, I have been able to contribute to creating and maintaining our beautiful future as well and am proud that I am a part of the solution for my mum.

My mother is an amazing woman. She is strong, gentle, determined, resilient, incredibly loyal, kind, generous, compassionate, loving, tenacious, wise, and most of all stubborn! She has always called it persistence, but really, she is stubborn. And it is a good thing she is stubborn because it is probably one of her traits that has helped her to overcome so much of the adverse experiences she had to face.

I am an unusual Soul, sent by the Divine for a very particular purpose. Those of my Kind, need to have an Anchor here on Earth, someone who is of the Earth element or strongly identifies with the Earth to anchor one of my Kind, so we are able to complete our Divine tasks. My lovely mum is my Anchor. She has earthed me and helped keep my equilibrium throughout my whole life and when she passes, I may simply become ether and evaporate returning to the Divine Source from whence I came.

My mum is one of the Universal Ancients. It took a grand act of Universal Alchemy for the Beings that my brothers and I are, to enter the Earthy plane. Only one of true Universal majesty can hold the door open for us and that is my mum. And a Being of this majesty needs some pretty profound helpers to complete her Divine task.

I love the story of how my mum came to fully acknowledge Master Jesus as her Master Teacher and Spiritual Guide. Ever since I can remember my mum as had the gift of being a Sentient Being. So, of course we spoke about and studied Spiritual, Religious and Metaphysical matters. One subject that was a constant discussion topic was that of discovering and connecting with our Spiritual Guides. For many years, when I was young she would tell me that she had been in meditation asking to be shown her Spiritual Guide and every time she asked, out of a beautiful heavenly white and gold lighted mist, walking with grace, and majesty would come the Christ, yes THE Jesus Christ. Now, my mum and I had also studied a lot about how the Mental Mind can interfere with Spiritual matters and personal growth and to be wary of the Mental Mind interfering with the Truth of Spiritual matters. The ego can sometimes throw red herrings into our meditations to stop us from growing Spiritually. So, of course my mum, being diligent about her spiritual growth, would see the majestic Jesus Christ coming towards her out of the beautiful heavenly white and gold lighted mist and with pragmatic verve say,

Jesus Christ?? Really?? No, no that’s a Mental Mind projection! Jesus Christ could not possibly be my Guide and Master Teacher! That’s just ego! So, you, phony Jesus Christ, can just go away!

Of course, the Divine Ones respect our wishes, when it comes to our will. So, the exquisite Jesus Christ compliantly floated with majesty back into the beautiful heavenly white and gold lighted mist that he had come from, until the next time my mum would attempt the Connect-with-your-Master-Teacher-and-Spirit-Guide-Meditation, and the comedy would playout again exactly as last time. My Mum would ask, Come forth my Master Teacher and Spirit Guide. And once again out of a beautiful heavenly white and gold lighted mist, walking with grace, and majesty would come the Christ. Mum would shut him down again, just like the last time, accusing him of being a meddlesome Mental Mind apparition. Well, this comedy of errors went on for many years, until the day mum met a woman who knew a beautiful sentient Being, Kinsley Jarrett, the artist and author of Visions of the Ascended Masters.

Kinsley painted through Raised Consciousness the most beautiful realisation of people’s Master Teacher and Spirit Guides. We were to simply send him a photo of us and without meeting him he would paint through Raised Consciousness our Master Teacher and Spirit Guides. Well, my journey to know my Master Teacher and Spirit Guide is just as interesting as my mum’s but it is a story for another time. My mum’s story is so curious because usually once Kinsley had finished the painting, he would pack them carefully and post them to their owners. What followed was a little different. Valhalla, Kinsley’s wife telephone mum and said Kinsley would like to personally deliver these particular works as they were very special, and he wanted to meet the two ladies that were attached to them. Of course, my mum agreed, and Kinsley and Valhalla visited us at our Mountain home. Kinsley was an elf like man with the most otherworldly blue eyes I had ever seen. He was gentle and made of ether. Valhalla was his Anchor, strong, formidable and earthed. When Kinsley uncurled the painting of my mum’s Master Teacher and Spirit Guide, mum let out a gasp and exhalation of such realisation, gratitude and embarrassment I thought she was going to choke. There before her on the uncurled paper shining forth out of a beautiful heavenly white and gold lighted mist was the image of…THE Jesus Christ!

For so many years he had conscientiously and patiently appeared to her whenever she asked. Yet in her effort to perfect herself and her spirituality by being cautious of the ego and the mental mind she had turned him away. How wonderful that the Christ is as stubborn as my mother. He would not give up on her and made sure she knew that he was her brother and had always stood beside her.

Kingsley always accompanied his portraits with a personal message delivered through Raised Consciousness from each Master Teacher to their recipient. The following message accompanies my mum’s portrait of her Master Teacher and Spiritual Guide Master Jesus.

Image and message for Jackie as received by

Kinsley Jarrett in Maleny 16:11: 96

Dear soul Jackie…I have given to you my image because

as your Spirit Guide, I know that you are awakened to the

fact that you are and always have been a part of the Divine

Source from which you have never been separate.

You continue to allow the Love from that Source within to freely

flow, remembering in part that you have always trusted and

yielded into the Love that carries the Law. So it is that you

have often shared that Love and beauty with many Beings to

whom you have given such generosity and understanding.

You are at present in a stage of transformation which will

enable you to cope with the changing patterns in your world.

Nevertheless, do not forget that should certain difficulties

come into your awareness, they are your mirror and therefore

would need your attention so that lessons maybe learned.

Perhaps just when you thought you had learned the lot, even after

experiencing several previous lifetimes in higher state. Fear not dear

soul for you will quickly recall the ever-present Source and realise that

that Source has ascendancy and authority over everything you think.

Let your Love continued to express. When you choose to

meditate with my image, sense my presence and that of the

Divine Source. Know that I am with you now and always.

Jesus

My beautiful mum is not a literary genius, so you will not be reading some sophisticated, highly complex, impressively written, literary document. As you will come to learn she has had very little schooling and most of her education has come from the University of Living Life. However, she is an excellent storyteller and has some very fascinating and heart wrenching stories to tell. In some ways this book is her watershed moment, a seminal time of great achievement, change and transition. She can now finally put the past behind her and walk joyously down her twilight path arm in arm with her support, friend and brother Master Jesus Christ.

Enjoy!

Nethiel

(Daughter)

Introduction

FROM MY PEN: 1996

Dear Ones,

Thank you for your Interest in reading this, the story of my Earthly life. A life that brought me many challengers and I sincerely hope, it has taught me much and advanced me in Spirit strength, endurance and resonance.

I was born with a grand curiosity and I was a highly imaginative and philosophical child. Therefore, this book focuses on many of my experiences from when I was a child and also through-out my life, developing into the person I am today, an ageing Spirit Warrior. Each section brought knowledge and wonderment to me. You my reader, may think that it is simply story, yet allow me to assure each of you that all was as exactly as I have endeavoured to paint a picture with words. It is very difficult to explain resonance, psychic onset, vibrations, plus beings of darkness and hundreds of toads covering every inch of one’s yard.

The following Information and stories have been sent to assist me and my fellow humans in their understandings of what has been impressed upon me. As I have grown from childhood until my advanced age, other avenues of metaphysical information and communication have made themselves known to me. Beings have made themselves known to me also and have found ways to educate me.

I do not expect for these memories to be a literary masterpiece. Simply over many years I began to understand the reason why we are here on this resonate plane. There are many planes of vibration that resonate on and around us on this particular planet. Earthlings call her Earth and please don’t think that Humans are the only Earthling life force that call her home. This planet has been known by many names. At this time, on this plane she is recognized by two names- Earth and a more sacred vibration, Gaia. Gaia gives Humans and other Beings a place to develop Spiritual Perfection. In my book I am going to explain to the best of my understanding what is the reason we are here, how we came to be and what is expected of us.

The following came to me in an ECHO form, disturbing me from a deep slumber. It continued on three consecutive nights until it was so loud it felt like I was sharing my room with a cycling sound of deep slow energy. I would describe it as THE RYTHUMIC CHANTING OF TIBETIAN MONKS. And other such early races of humans. As the REDMAN of the Americas.

AAAUUUMMMMM AAAUUUUMMMAAAUUMMMMM

Aauuuummma arruum UUUMMare

STAaaaRRr SEEeeeDS

ECHOOOoooooo…   Starr-seeds…   Starr-seeds…   STARR…   seedddddssss…

Ish FAR ce Aria (el)

Ish FARrr…   c…Aria…   ellll…

Message…   Messaaaage…   Message….

LISTEN………LISTEN LISTEN FOR OUR CALL…….LISTENNNN

We of the heavenly realms have but to reunite with you, our Twin Flames. By this, our combined consciousnesses will form patterns that represent symbols of living-life energy. This formation of harmonic circumspect voyager energy will be released and the darkness in the Earth Soul Beings will at once be eased, allowing them to experience the light of Divine Love and Truth once more. We are to release this Earth from its entrapment.

I seem an ordinary person just like so many…and yet, I have lived my life with an added dimension of what I now term Sensory and Auditory Awareness.

It was 1992 and I was experiencing a 10-year cycle of Saturn purification. I only know this now as at the time, I was unaware of this particular challenge. I am now aware that this kind of challenge can occur to stimulate and test one’s spiritual endurance and development.

I found myself contemplating and wondering would I survive the challenges I faced, the emotional, mental and physical onslaught. Would I lose all that said to me, this is who you are, this is your purpose, this is the reason you are alive? Would I survive being subjected to betrayal, abandonment, manipulation, hatred, lies, deceit and abuse from those I loved. Would I survive whose who I had given the last 30 years of my life, in part or in full too, and people that I had loved? Would I survive being placed by the actions of others, in vulnerable, dangerous and intolerable situations. To lose all material possessions that give someone security and safety in this world. To lose so-called friends because I had no money. To be left ill and broken, awaiting an unyielding death sentence of at worst six months and 6 years at best. No person turned to me and asked, Are you ok? or asked, How are you coping? The only comment I received was Oh you’ll be ok. One part of me wanted to yell at them I have Leukemia you insensitive jerk. But at the same time the quiet voice within counselled, Say nothing, do not retort.

In the years that followed, it seemed that as I survived and coped with one loss, heartache or challenge, another would hit out of the blue from another direction until I started to see the hysterical, cynical side of it all! Could I still retain my goodness of heart? When lies and hatred were the weapon of choice; could I speak only the truth even if it meant losing what I valued? Could I walk my talk? Could I hold on to my core spiritual beliefs or would the dark side of all human nature rise within me? Would I become one with my attackers and fight eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth; hurt, crush and destroy! Or would I quietly turn the other cheek, accept the pain of the moment, go within and bleed the sorrowful tears of despair. This, simply put, was the question being asked of me.

I give my eternal gratitude to my Angel Daughter, you were the reason I put my feet to the floor each morning. The White Eagle Lodge in Maleny for your sanctuary, and Spirit Clairvoyant, Marissa for your enduring support.

In the midst of my personal chaos in 1996, I began to experience yet once again an unusual phenomenon. I could not say that I heard voices, it was more like, in my mind’s knowingness, came gentle bursts of light and instantly the message was received.

Was I delusional, on the brink of insanity, had I reached my limit? Or simply put, had the dark forces won, had I lost my mind? Or perhaps my cries for understanding had been heard by higher forces and my pleas for respite had been heard and were being answered and I just had to wait.

How To Read This Book

This book contains Postscripts at the end of the book that you may like to read before, during or after the main chapters. The information in the Postscripts outlines my understanding of the Spirit Universe, its architecture and inhabitance. You may like to read Postscript One before or after Chapters 1 and 2, Postscript 2/Section 1 before or after Chapters 3-15, Postscript 2/Section 2 before or after Chapters 16-22, Postscript 3 before or after Chapters 23-31, and Postscript 4 before or after Chapters 24 and the end of the book.

1

A Walk in my Earthly Garden

The following is my story, telling of my younger life and the experiences, that brought me to this day when I am intuitively pressed to tell of my present incarnation, both physically and spiritually. No masterpiece of literature by any means; just a story told by an ageing woman because she feels she must.

As a small child I was constantly aware of a presence. I explained it as the Godliness of my heart. The feeling has always encapsulated me, it is as if a Life Form is forever listening for my individual sound, the musical tone that identifies me from all others while I am a present within its existence.

Communication is through my psychic, intuitive, sensory spirit body, and my spirit mind – or quantum consciousness if you prefer.

This Presence is ever aware of the essence that I am, the pain or joy that I am receiving, and is disposed to the desire that my existence has purpose and that I am being guided in the achievement of my mission.

Very early in my life at about eight years of age, shortly after my first Holy Communion in the Roman Catholic Church, I announced to all and sundry that the mean and nasty God was not my God and I would have nothing to do with such a God!

This decision came from the knowingness that is uniquely me, my intuitiveness, my spirit self-will, which at that time I am open to admit, possibly manifested in a show of childish arrogance, laced with a good dose of know-it-all attitude. Of course both my Grandmothers, Ninna O’Loughlin (an Irish- born Roman Catholic), Ninna Spencer (a Baptist come Methodists Protestant, depending on who she was speaking to at the time), and Mother Maryanne at the private Convent I was attending, it appeared to me they were all sure I was going to hell and told me so in no uncertain terms, over and over again.

So, My God and I were on our own - asking advice from my little mother, the answer I received was to follow my heart.

My Grandmothers and Mother Superior had painted such a powerful image of my impending demise in my young mind that I would fearfully follow along on the footpath after my mother, watching her beautiful curly auburn hair bob around her shoulders, while I hopped, skipped and bounced along holding on to the fence palings in an effort to be ready for when the ground would open in front of me and I would tumble to my inevitable doom. My thoughts being that if I could save myself from falling down into the eternal flame of punishment by hanging on to the post or palings long enough, that the hole would close and perhaps the Devil would forget my terrible mortal sin and that his insatiable hunger for the flesh of mortals would be turned toward someone far more evil than me.

What I had done was so bad that I was declared an outcast at school. To this day I remember the confusion and embarrassment as hot flushes of shame flowed through my body turning my skin bright red, as Mother Maryanne called me up and presented me on morning parade, facing all in attendance, to be told in front of all that I was a wicked sinful girl who was guilty of blasphemy. That I was from a heathen family as my father was an atheist who sang filthy songs aloud for all to hear and shame! Oh shame! I played with my cousins who went to state schools, so there was a huge possibility that I was contaminating good Catholic girls with lice and nits.

This pale, gaunt-faced woman who dressed in black from head to toe, her spittle spurting from her mouth due to the vehemence and ferocity of her attack, condemned me to suffer in purgatory for my sins and for being born into a devilish and obviously low-class family.

We lived across the side road near the tennis courts of this exclusive girl’s school and unknowingly close to the nuns’ private quarters. On the first Saturday night each month, friends and relatives would come over for a singsong. The men would crack open some nice cold beers and make each lady a gin sling – this was a fancy drink my father had learnt to make overseas during his time serving in a bomber squadron in the Second World War.

Auntie Ena would play the piano and the adults would link arms, singing and swaying to and fro around the piano. I was allowed to squeeze in next to my mummy because I loved the music. We all sang songs together and finally we finished with the hokey-pokey: Put your right hand in, put your right hand out, put your right hand in and you jiggle it all about!

At 9 o’clock punctually, the noise would stop, and supper would be served. My cousin and I were given our plate of supper, one hot sausage roll, a Sao biscuit with Vegemite and cheese, a piece of cake and a glass of milk with Milo sprinkled on the top, then off to bed.

Supper for the adults included ham sandwiches with hot mustard, savory tarts, and the home-made sausage rolls. Oranges were used to hold tangy savory bites suitable for men’s taste buds. This was then followed by coffee, tea, walnut cake, and lemon meringue pie.

Auntie Ena’s daughter and I would snuggle down in my bed and we would listen to the happy laughter of the men as they sat on the back stairs telling jokes and stories and lighting their favorite smoko, while the ladies cleaned up the kitchen and had a chat. These nights were the happiest of my young life with my mother and father.

Auntie Ena was my father’s younger sister and she played piano. She had no formal education, she played by ear. I thought she was really great; she would listen to the hit parade on the radio and learn the latest top hits for the next sing song. It so happened that at that time there was a song called I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts on the hit parade, and it was this dirty song that got me into extra trouble with Mother Maryanne.

Mother Maryanne heard this song and I was made to stand with my head bowed as an example of shame, as the pupils of the junior school marched past me and into their classes. When parade was over, Mother Maryanne took my small hand within hers and squeezing my fingers as tight as she possible could to inflict as much pain as possible, she hauled me sobbing, chastened and confused to the chapel, where a priest was waiting to hear my confession in an effort to save my wicked soul.

The priest told the sister he did not know the song as such and I in my innocence offered to sing the song for them as I proudly announced that I knew the words all the way through. This ability of mine seemed to bring added stress to the situation and obviously no confession was going to help my poor soul at this point – my mother was called immediately, as my doom was eminent.

The arrival of my mother introduced yet another octave to the previous voices. Now, the high pitched voices of my mother, Mother Maryanne, and the priest, combined with the fingers of distain being pointed in my direction and words such as Mortal Sin and Satan’s Spawn belched from the chapel and echoed around me, got me to wondering if the Devil himself had ever swallowed someone right in front of God’s servants and in one of God’s very own houses, because by now I was sure that my fate was sealed.

My mother and I left this private girls school never to darken its door again, with my mother exiting with a final burst at the priest and the nun, using words that included bigotry, pious, intolerance, prejudice, and mean old spinsters who take their frustration and bitterness out on small children to satisfy their own hatred of the world, and that she would rather believe in my God than the one that motivates such perverted ugliness.

I had never seen my mother so angry, livid at the outrageous attack on an innocent, her little Chenna-Maria (this was the secret name my dear mother called me when no one else could hear).That day as we walked away I felt an overwhelming and consuming pride at having such a wondrous mother and I knew for sure that my little mother was so amazing that she would stand between me and the devil himself if he came to get me, and that she would protect me with her life and I was safe in her care. This little lady was everything to me as I was to her.

MY LESSONS IN FEAR and SHAME

2

Spirit Self

I have always been consciously aware of two separate MEs, the human me and the other, The One whom is truly who I am.

As a much younger child I was adamant that I had lived on Earth before, when she was not called by the name Earth. As I told my little mother, "Once upon a time, I was a very tall young man with red skin, I could-a been a lady with red skin if I-da had wanted, but, I had very long dark bluey black hair that grew like lions hair an, was held in a big plait