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My Story

“My destiny is written on my palm”

Although I was just three years old, the events of that day are as clear in my mind as if they happened yesterday…
I was playing on the steps at the back door of my grandma and granddad Kate and Alfred’s cottage in Wales.
Suddenly, I slipped, fell on a milk bottle. The glass smashed, a sharp shard lodged itself into my head.
I saw a red light. Then I blacked out…
I was walking through the air, with nothing beneath my feet.
The beautiful scent of flowers filled my nostrils. I was surrounded by twinkling lights.
I wasn’t scared or in pain. I just felt peace and happiness.
A tall being wearing a long, white tunic was standing in the distance. A light shone behind him.
I walked towards him. He smiled at me, put something into my hand.
I looked down. There, in the middle of my left palm, was a glowing pearl.
‘No,’ he told me gently. ‘You can’t come this way. You have work to do.’
The word work echoed around us.
Another man appeared. He was tall and strong, wearing rough brown working clothes. At his side was a Red Setter dog. The man squeezed my hand…
The next thing I knew, I was writhing on a hospital bed, screaming in pain.
It turned out the shard of glass had gone through my skull, pierced the membrane covering my brain. Doctors had operated to remove the glass. I was lucky to be alive.
A few days later, I was lying in bed on a ward when a lady in a grey dress appeared beside me.
‘My name is Martha,’ she told me. ‘You’re much better. You’ll be going home soon.’
‘Thank you, Nurse,’ I replied.
But when I told my mum, Nancy, about the nurse, she turned pale.
The lady wasn’t a nurse – she was my grandma’s sister Martha, who had died before I was born. I’d been visited by a kindly spirit.
Years passed. Then, when I was 10, I was playing in the school playground.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp blow to the side of my head. My vision swam as agony seared through me.
I’d been hit by a golf ball on the same side of my head where I still had the scar from the shard of glass.
Luckily, I soon recovered. But something in me had changed…
I started having strange dreams that I was flying through a forest.
The following year my grandma and granddad Florence and Herbert Fletcher were visiting.
I knew my granddad was a medium.
‘Granddad, please could you read my palm? I begged.
Granddad held up my left hand.
‘You have a yova on your palm,’ he told me.
‘What’s that?’ I asked, bemused.
‘It’s an eye on your palm,’ he answered. ‘It means you’ve been blessed with second sight.’
I stared at my upturned hand. There in the middle of my palm, was the shape of an eye.
That was why I could see spirits.
After that, I started giving readings to schoolmates with my friend Stephen’s tarot cards. It was as natural to me as breathing.
And I kept dreaming about the man with the Red Setter I’d seen when I nearly died all those years before. We’d walk along together with the dog at our heels.
‘I’m your friend,’ the man would tell me in his strong Irish accent.
Then, when I was 19, my beloved granddad Herbert passed away. I was heartbroken.
But Granddad had left me all his spiritual books and the magnifying glass he used to read palms.
Then, in 1986, I was on holiday in Turkey with my friends Clive and Paul.
One day, we were heading to the beach. Suddenly, I saw a flash of white light.
I stepped off the pavement – into the path of a bus. The impact knocked me twenty feet into the air.
Dazed, I staggered to my feet, checked myself over. There wasn’t a mark on me.
‘You should be dead,’ Clive gasped.
The light I’d seen was heavenly protection. Once again, my life had been saved.
Back at home, I joined a spiritual development circle. One evening at the circle the man with the Red Setter appeared.
‘I’m your spirit guide,’ he told me. ‘I’ve been with you all your life.’
By then I had a dental practice. But while my patients were sitting in my chair, I sensed their health problems, sent them healing while I was working on their teeth!
In 2000, arthritis in my hands forced me to give up dentistry. It was time to use my gift.
I became a full time clairvoyant, healer and palm reader, working with my loyal guide, who’d been a 17th century Irish game keeper.
As a tribute to him, I worked using his name, Warren Day, instead of my real name Kevin.
Now I know it was Archangel Michael who appeared to protect me when I was hit by a bus in Turkey.
And he was the being who sent me back from the brink of death all those years earlier. My life was saved so I could help others through my work.
When he handed me the pearl, he was giving me the gift of clairvoyance.
On my left palm, you can see the break in my headline, which indicates my head injuries.
But you can also see a square around the break, showing I was being protected. I wasn't allowed to die.
And in the centre of my palm you can clearly see the eye where Archangel Michael placed the pearl.
My destiny is written on my palm.

 

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