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It's evening, and I'm too excited to wait until tomorrow morning to write about this. I don't know that anyone else will read it, who will appreciate what it means to my study, or to me, personally. But here, I'll try to summarize. I am not trying to prove anything to cynics, for reasons stated many times.

You may, perhaps, have read about a particular type of evidence for afterlife phenomena, called "cross-correspondences." Usually, the term is used to describe the situation in which an astral person will give a portion of a message to one medium, and then the dovetailing remainder of it to another medium, so that neither partial message makes sense until the two are combined. I had some cross-correspondences in the two mediumistic sessions I contracted for in 2010; in particular, one said that Abby (whom they were both instructed to contact, while being given very limited information to go on), was "ahead of her time;" while the other said that we both were. Their wording wasn't identical, but it held the same meaning--I'm going to beg off, on the basis of fatigue, from looking them up and quoting them verbatim, as this is just an example.

So for several entries, recently, I reported in real time what my researcher uncovered, going through some volumes of 19th century newspapers that I contributed to, in my earlier incarnation as author Mathew Franklin Whittier. If you missed them, they are in the archives, and start a few entries back. In one of those entries, I reported the discovery of some anti-slavery letters to the editor, signed "Kappa, Lambda & Mu." I interpreted, from style and various clues (I am well-familiar with Mathew's style, now), that this three-part signature represented Abby, Mathew, and their newborn son, Joseph. Given that Mathew was always given to symbolism--and this playful use of symbolism was something both he and Abby delighted in--I looked up these Greek letters, to see what other meanings they might have. Immediately, I saw that a "kappa" is a mythological Japanese water sprite. A "lambda" is a Spartan shield; and Mu has another meaning, I won't go into, here, representing, as I believe, a musical chord which mystically expresses creation. Joseph is thus this couple's "Mu." Mathew was always emotionally guarded, to the point that he could joke about it (typically, referring in jest to his "phalanx" instead of his "feelings").

But if Abby styled herself as a water sprite, this opened up an entire realm of possible confirmations, given that she grew up overlooking the broad Merrimack River in East Haverhill. Our second medium saw her as being something of a tomboy, willing to get her hands dirty and able to shoe horses, even though "people of her class" usually had someone else do it. Nobody told him she was from an upper-class household (her father was a marquis). I didn't tell him anything about her, at all, except that she was Mathew's wife in the 19th century.

But I had forgotten something. There is an entire series of short-stories, which I determined Mathew had edited and submitted to a paper, about nine years after her death. I had various pieces of evidence supporting this theory; and there was a lot riding on it, because Abby drew heavily from her personal history, and from Mathew's, in writing these stories. The intials matched hers, i.e., "A.P." But it was still hard to prove.

I have been proofreading this lengthy chapter, into which I've placed most of the evidence, as it has come to me over the past several years. And today I got into that section dealing with Abby's short stories, and remembered that one of them opens with a stanza from a poem. It's a poem that may not even have been around in her day--Mathew would have added it, in tribute. It reads:

Our father says that what before
We told you was not right;
For God has grace enough in store
To save a Water Sprite.

Well, the meaning of this tribute, is that Abby was deeply spiritual, but she was non-traditional, and she was shunned by traditional Christians as a heathen, who were of the opinion that she would go to hell for her beliefs, that she wasn't "saved," or, as our first psychic said, with nothing to go on (from my notes):

Women shunned Abby as well. Many of them gossiped behind her back. "Got the devil".

From this, I knew it was Mathew, who had edited Abby's stories. Meaning, I knew it for myself, and within myself. I was satisfied I was on the right track, and had the correct attribution.

But now, look at what we have--a cross-correspondence between "Kappa," and this poem in which Abby--the author, signing as "A.P."--is also represented as a "Water Sprite."

Case closed. I mean, anyone can be pulled around by their lack of faith, and their fears, by the nose, and run to catch up with that fear, fooling themselves that this was their decision. It's not their decision, it's their fear which drove them away from the clear and obvious truth, and after they ran away, they justified it by claiming they had quite willingly and rationally come to that conclusion. That's dishonest.

But barring this cynic's dance, I have it. The letters were co-authored by Mathew and Abby; and the short stories were written by Abby. That also means that two letters to the editor, after all the stories had been submitted, were Mathew channeling Abby some 10 years after her death. Or, at least, writing as her, in character, unknown to the editor.

This means that anything which Abby drew from her own personal history, or from Mathew's personal history, and embedded in these stories, can be considered (with allowance for literary license) to be actual. And there are things in there you will not find anywhere in the official Whittier legacy, as for example it appears that Mathew may have run away from home--because of ill treatment from his father--and gone to sea around age 14. Everything dysfunctional in this family was expunged, because it would put the lie to John Greenleaf Whittier's idyllic poem, "Snow-Bound," his one-hit wonder which gave him overnight success. How they managed to hide something like this, I don't know. But I'll bet dollars-to-doughnuts this was part of the real history.

Meanwhile, now I can say with confidence, I have something like eight or ten of Abby's own short stories. They're excellent, albeit Victorian. Now, they also strongly prefigure "A Christmas Carol," for which I have long believed she was the primary author. When I say "prefigured," I mean, it is a clear, logical progression from these stories, to that one (or rather, what it must have been originally, before Dickens re-wrote it for popular consumption).

So when you see, here, that I claim that Mathew and Abby co-authored the original of "A Christmas Carol," which was then plagiarized by (or given over to) Dickens, after Abby died, I am not just blowing smoke. This isn't, actually, a sign of delusional thinking, as the cynic might unthinkingly and automatically assume. I have strong evidence suggesting it.

I had strong evidence for it when I was merely theorizing that these stories were Abby's work. Now, I know I was right about it.

Then again, who cares about "A Christmas Carol," anymore? That's the irony of it. When I was a kid, I used to see that movie--one version or another--on TV every Christmas. It was part of the Christmas ritual. It wasn't Christmas season yet until I'd seen that movie. But I can't remember, now, the last time I saw it. Christmas on TV is mostly secular. There's the kid who gets the BB gun; there's bad animation of Frosty the Snowman, or Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer. There are about a million films and programs inspired, to a greater or lesser degree, by the story of "Scrooge." (Personally, I think "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" is one of the best, and truest to the spirit of that tale.)

But I think there is rapidly coming up a generation of people who will have no idea what that story is. They will know that "Scrooge" means a miserly, grouchy old man. That's about the extent of it.

So by the time I finally force society to believe and understand that Abby and I wrote the original of that story in the 1830's, nobody will know what it is anymore, and nobody will care.

What this means to me, personally, is another matter. All of this, that I am writing about, is real. This is no fantasy. You, the Materialists, are the ones in la-la land, not me. You think you are a flesh robot, and nothing more.

I really don't know how to talk to someone who believes something like that.

Best regards,

Stephen Sakellarios, M.S.

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