Hello, God Bless You: I Am GUARDIAN ARCH ANGEL CHRIST MICHAEL: Proof, The URANTIA BOOK: Revelation 2:17 ( Free, Online ): Joseph7173 On Twitter; Toni.Ciano On Facebook and Instagram: ATTENTION-Please! Share My URGENT DIVINE MESSAGE, And Help EVERY ONE Find Some PEACE OF MIND! No JOKE! Thank you very much! Take Good Care! Ciao,-_-,

Antonio Ciano
Mon, Dec 9, 7:10 PM

to leaf.red@gmail.com, PE.education@gmail.com, bcc: phi.kappa@gmail.com

Am Christ Michael; Full name Giuseppe Antonio Ciano; Christ Ciano On LinkedIn and You Tube; Proof of MY PRESENT RETURN: The URANTIA BOOK; Revelation 2:17 ( Our Only True HOLY GRAIL ); Lots of Love to you because I AM THE Only True HOLY GHOST, and My Sympathy lies in the fact that you are emotionally hurting; I want you to feel better; we are headed towards the TRUE END TIMES Where, in truth forever more, Material Bodies won’t be so important any longer; Blessings to you and everyone you Love, With all my Love, Antonio Ciano; If you would like to know more; please respond, or you can reply to my email; tonyciano@yahoo.ca.and I will send you my auto biography in condensed form. Have a Good Week; Take Care; @GAC8717
Marybeth Van ES, James Ardiel
James Ardiel
All well and said but it does not help One bit that my cat is gone
You

Marybeth, hello again; I am sorry my message did not cheer you up; your hurt must be like losing a child; one last effort though; Marybeth. I write Poetry with a strong sense of Divinity; it is almost like medicine; well, no one is complaining when i send them this specific message, which I try to send to people at least three hundred times a day. If, also, you just need to talk to someone, you are welcome to phone me; 604 582 8717; please do not feel injured; You are loved very much; thank you for replying; all the best; Ciao for now,-_-. Hi.God loves You. Peace, man. Revealed; The Truth about God, Jesus and The Holy Spirit: Revelation 2:17, The Urantia Book, free, online. Please share with everyone, (without a doubt or Prejudice, Our only True Holy Grail), @AntonKnebenson @GAC8717 My Dear Beloved Friends, God Loves You! Why? A New Revelation with the Spirit of Truth is here Today to Help All of us know the Truth about God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit, ( The Urantia Book, Revelation 2:17,Free, Online, in all international Languages, and Guided by Archangel Michael, His Trusted Angels, and the Holy Spirit ).A prayer and Blessing for all Good Loving Believers who Wish to share the Truth about Jesus, The Son of God and the Holy Spirit: For all the Children who are Ruined by shame Mirror child The image of a precious dove Dancing barefoot on the beach Drinking in love and sunshine full of smiles never having to die. Mere child Dreaming awhile on a school title Learning to carry books for miles. Crayons, pencils, stencils Nothing you need to do but Sing and carry the wind on Your wings. Mirror child Like daddy or mommy Carrying so many burdens for A little person All the time Not able To catch the spies and Spiders. Go back to the skies, Little dove And play with the eagles who tamed this land Until you are a spirit so good and pure That you will truly guide the directions of our Bloodied hands. Temptations of Evil Muscles of Clay, Eyes of pitifully empty bliss, Teeth of dragons never begotten, You stand alone Praying to brainless demons Praising power empty Of Spirit, Goodness or Hope. You shall reap no Glory But only Mortal death and baptized Shame So as to Die without Jesus Or any Holy Name. Stained by lust, Broken tears and stardom, Born of evil and deviltries Ill conceived Raise Your Heart to God Jesus and The Holy Spirit, And He will Remove Your Pain, Stop your foolish self destructive reign, And bring you Spiritual Relief You could never possibly or individually Humanly gain. To Have Peace, Love And Eternal Happiness and Justice For All People, Believe in Jesus, The Son of Mary and God, And You Will Be Immortally Saved For ever more, And Be Loved By Our Holy Father God For all Eternity. I Am a Divine Messenger, ( Described in The Urantia Book as The Solitary Messenger), Working Directly with Guardian Arch Angel Michael J Christ and His Angels, and I come To Share Good News, and the Facts about our Only True Holy God from The Heavens with Everyone: Our only True HOLY GRAIL Is The Urantia Book, REVELATION 2:17. Without any form of falseness or deception involved, and with the Greatest Wish to stop humanity from bringing ourselves to the brink of Nuclear Extinction, The Urantia Book is Our Only Truthful Answer to our Man made Troubled Times. Peace and Blessings of Goodness to Everyone. In The Name of Jesus and The Holy Spirit, Amen. @GAC8717
Marybeth Van ES
James Ardiel
thank you for your kind message … I am just so devastated that he is gone… I am pretty sure someone coaxed him into their home and I hope they are at the very least loving him as much as a person can that stole my cat… He clearly is VERY taken care of and my whole family are mourning the lost of our family pet who we have had for over 4 years …..
You

Hello dear Mary Beth; you know, from the very few words you have replied to me with, I can tell you are well read and well versed; you write very well; your expression is very clear,,,, My family and I had many cats; we even once got a kitten we were quite sure was a male; turns out we were wrong and, ‘Michael’ later turned out to be female, but she also gave birth to 6 kittens; well, long story short, my mother would not put Michael to sleep; that poor mother cat of ours was kept to her final resting days at home; oh, Marybeth\; she was all arthritic and as brittle as an old tree branch; and as light as a feather; yes, my mother was somewhat like you; could not give up on a ‘life’ she cared and loved for over 15 years, our dear mother cat Michael. ( yes, the name stuck; we kept one of her kittens; we named him Chico cougar; he was kept the same, to his very last resting days as well ). I enjoy chatting with you, even though you are suffering, you are able to explain your situation; I am glad you are healthy this way; so few people really are these days. I close with some of my family history; it explains how my brothers never believed in my mission, and, as I was to find out later from my Guardian Angels, my eldest, Aldo, is the reincarnated soul of Judas, the Satanist who has condemned me to death; and, as Jesus, my younger brother was also with me when I was Christ Michael the first time around; foils in my life to keep me pure; no joke, Aldo had always been into Alister Crowley, huge amounts of cocaine binging and, well, basically a devil worshipper from a very young age. My younger brother, just a year back, he wanted to sue me for the story enclosed here; the first time around, I had once, as Jesus, taken care of him in jail; in those days he as well had not believed in my mission, and turned out to be very Cain like indeed. Enough of my expression, for now, but I do hope you can appreciate these two stories; they are true; they really had happened. Take Care; stay well, and feel free to reply any time; Sincerely, Antonio My Last visit to my family Home In British Columbia, Canada, the lush mountainsides of forests and rivers run for miles and miles without end joining to breathtaking lakes and streams where people live simple country lives. I came from British Columbia from a small rural town where people once were able to leave their doors open without any sense of worry or hurry, be able to step into their gardens and have a oneness with their neighbours, and live in harmony with humble but naturally prosperous lifestyles. But for me, my last time home was one of knowing my mother was aging, and that no one was there to aide her while understanding her home needed to be Blessed for my soul to be cleansed to allow for the memory of my father’s spirit to be sent free, and for my derelict brothers to know I would leave our parent’s home one last time without any regrets. I took care of my mother as long as I could, before I was married, during my marriage and after I was divorced. She was, however, at her worst after our father had passed away, for she no longer wanted to live on her own after, for years and years, she had watched over my aging father lose his mental and physical abilities, but at the time would never permit herself to put him in a senior citizen’s home where she believed caretakers only strived to make their patients die without any sympathy or compassion. Left on her own, my youngest brother, so chained to his wife and a way of life that demanded travel, education and to a degree a great sense of hypocrisy, they took my mother to a mining town up north where the cold barren land left her speechless and insecure. My brother’s common law wife, away for days at a time as a geologist analyst engineer and he leaning towards doing the same left my mother scrambling for her own for her wellbeing. Then they moved, and my foolish youngest brother packed everything, including her precious belongings, at night by himself while thieves observed him well and robbed everything valuable when my estranged living up North family moved in the following day. My mother was heartbroken, to say the least, my brother leaning towards my in-law sister’s calling as well, did very little to comfort or support my dear mother, and so she longed for some kind of peace of mind that could never be found by believing and living with them. Then, lo and behold, they had to move again, even further north east, to learn more about mining, fracking, destroying the precious Earth by raping her of her minerals, her fertility, and by killing our precious world`s gardening soil so rare to find now anywhere. So, during those days, my mother calls me. Now, just being newly married at the time for no less than a year, my mother was hysterical, beyond hope and, the kindest son that I am, she demanded my help. So we are on the phone, you know, and me being new at marriage and as a husband, thus sometimes not knowing how to manage, listened to her problem now of living way beyond her means. `Son, your brother is moving again. This time too far for me to go with them, so expect us, because before they go, they are bringing me to you, so I am moving in`. Now, you know, being a new groom at the time, I did indeed want to help my dear mother, but I said to her I needed to ask my dear ex- wife first to make sure this would be all okay. Not my mother, though, could I ask this question, for she was fragile and vulnerable, and needed my comfort adamantly. So, more or less with my ex- wife`s consent, and with everything but a kitchen sink, my mother moved in with me with my brother`s agreeing full and whole heartedly. The upmost tragedy, however, was that our family home in Southern British Columbia was being mismanaged and the renters dwelling there were a half dozen seasonal firemen who took it upon themselves to have many parties, drink like crazy, avoid the cleaning, the gardening and whatever was needed for the house to be livable and clean. The filth and moral disrespect occurring then to my father`s dear home was just beyond complete disbelief. After all was said and done, my mother stayed with me for no less than a few months, what with my being busy with my work, my new bride being busy with school, and her never having friends or true neighbours beside her to keep her in harmony. What we then had to do was rent a huge moving van, send many of her belongings home in this way, and then for me to drive her home in her car to live in her basement while the firemen finished their lease for this summer season. Now, you may be asking yourself, where was your older brother; was he ever there to ever help? That is a good question; he was only there partly in deed. Now the eldest brother of mine has always been shallow, very materialistic and morally weak. For, not only did my parents help finance his education to be a lawyer that he would never become, but he left his parents and my family`s country entirely to be an associate professor, to take long leisurely holidays, and displace himself by being an oriental man, with, so he had wished for, a subservient wife, a life of academic prestige and, all the while, what soon came to be, our Canadian rooted homes were nothing to him but his summer cottages. So, here we were, my mom and I, back to my parent`s home, her to soon be alone in a cold basement, the renters upstairs howling at night, though my mother was half deaf then, and me with my heart in my hands not knowing whatever could happen next. I tidied up as quickly as I could; I even had to physically maneuver and contort myself through the basement bathroom window to get access to this washroom because my eldest sibling had locked it from within to protect to his precious twenty year old unused files , a boom box stereo, and whatever else mattered to his flimsy existence. I then mowed the lawn quickly, cleaned out our deep freeze , and unpacked my mother`s belongings as gently as she could please. Our home, in general, was special to me. My dad had built a greenhouse to grow tomatoes, hot peppers, herbs, and, when he was experimenting, even cantaloupes that were as sweet as could be. We also had a large garden with as many Italian apples and plums that you could ever like, even grafted so that there were two types of apples on one tree. Here my father had taught me how to work, how to use my bare hands to till the garden, to appreciate the goodness of the soil, and to profit humanely by respecting the harvests of carrots, potatoes, English Peas, raspberries, and various types of beans, radishes, cucumbers and lettuce that were as healthy and as hardy as could be. My father and mother were very generous to all us three brothers, always noting well that we were all three of their boys loved equally. My two brothers, on the other hand, were deceitful, disrespectful, and unwilling to share the legacy of my family name. Both brothers went to work and live overseas, one a so called lawyer with nothing to show for my parent`s hard work so as to improve our social class mobility, while traveling abroad to enjoy the world, make new international friends, while never amounting to anything more than an advanced ESL College Instructor. The youngest, the shrewdest of us all, taking so much money from my parents while none od his two other brothers, were looking, has been capable of so much selfishness as to make me his brother`s keeper, forcing my parents to make me pay him rent on my home he never had paid one cent of value to have invested in nor could make claim to, had disowned my parents and I many years ago which, I am sure you can sense now, dear reader, has left very little in respect to honoring my father and mother`s family name . Well, here we go again, my last visit to my parent`s home that I have never regretted , nor will I ever consider wrong in terms of my parent`s last wills. My brothers, the funniest guys, the fellows with the last laugh, the doctors of society, the captains of industry, the moral owners of nil. That summer I knew I would never return home again because my eldest brother has a swell head, confining his home visits to himself, never wanting other relatives or friends to visit during his great meditative sabbaticals. In contrast, he never guaranteed my mother no more than two short minutes of gratitude at a time, nor genuine family assistance , or a sense of being mature of doing the right thing while, on the other hand, he would go fishing, camping and dilly dallying with his companions of old to reengage in a great love for his prestigious youth. The strangest conversations I had with my eldest brother, I do tell you. `<Dear, eldest brother, our mother is old, she needs home support, her mind is becoming senile, do you not agree she should be helped by some genuine caretaker, for she cannot go shopping, she shouldn`t drive, and our dear close relatives have their own families and responsibilities to cope with and have no time to take care of her like she should be. `< Ah, no Bro. Mom`s fine. Don`t worry. I just bought her some gloves, so soon she`ll be able to work in the garden again. She`s very strong still; she just cooked me a homemade soup that was just as delicious as she has had ever made. < Eldest brother, I want to come visit you and mom while you are on holiday, is that okay? < No, bro. That is not a good idea. Why don`t you come visit when I am gone, that way we can take turns seeing her and not get in each other`s way. I seethed with frustration on that date, I was as upset as a farmer who for many seasons saw no rain. So, that precious but delicate summer, I drove to our family home, cleaned, cut and trimmed every possible inch of our yard, trimmed the hedge like sod over growing the house`s sidewalk edges, and tilled the soil to make it look presentable to my eldest brother who would come and visit one week later. Then I unclamped all the seat covers from our family car, vacuumed two inches of sawdust and dried grass grains from the car`s trunk, and washed it to look like my father still owned it when had been alive and well. Then I shampooed every inch of the carpets in each room of the house, washed and polished our middle class chandeliers, and made my mom`s house look like the home we first had when my parents were healthy, happy and honestly generous with their down to earth free will. My eldest brother was amazed, of course, and did his part by cleaning out the garage, doing some odd painting around the house, and by rearranging the fruit and wine cellar. The only true compliment I got from him, however, was < Wow, the carpets and rooms look great! Yes, my dear brothers, the friendliest people in the world, who would once as young men slap you in the face to get a giggle, who would rob the Earth of love for a golden nickel, and who would disassociate themselves from anyone who were not agreeable to their whims, fancies or their personal insincerity whom I would leave behind to never want to see again. As for my dear mother, she has just recently passed away. She left the world missing me, and I her, but I know in my heart one day soon we will see each other, and then we will never need to consider what tomorrow may bring. Yes, My family home, a memory now, but always knowing, for what it is worth, a Canadian home well worth remembering and spiritually redeeming. A Family Wine Story One wine season when I was about 10 years old, my father had just completed making a vat or large thirteen gallon bottle of red wine and it was set up on a bench in our wine and fruit cellar. Now, the curious boy I was, and impatient as well, I wanted to taste this red wine, so I opened the faucet of this vat, and waited for the glorious juice to flow out. I waited. Nothing happened. I waited again. Not a drop came out. “ Ah, whatever “ thought I, and went upstairs as if there wasn`t a care for the wine to think about. Well, lo and behold, an hour or so later, the red wine did flow out, yes, truly, thirteen gallons of red wine on our basement floor, bloody looking and somewhat messy, two inches deep, and my father to arrive one hour later. Shocked, of course, I didn`t know what to say or do; drenched with sweat and concern, I tried to clean up what I could, but my only comfort was knowing that my father was making more wine and we still had lots of grapes in the wine press where it was being made in our laundry room. My father, split in half with anger, at the point of exploding with infinite pain and sadness, for , you see, the wine would have been for one of his three son`s wedding, if the wine had aged, that is, without being ruined and wasted as a useless liquid on our basement floor. The irony is, as we were cleaning up my mess, there was one more gallon of freshly red wine one on the floor next to a concrete wall and, as I moved it to make way for cleaning, it broke, meaning the count of lost red wine was 14 gallons to never again be drank or shared for a possible future marriage celebration. That night, while my dad was in his lazy boy chair, I felt disheartened at his look of anger and despair, and I wanted to show him how sorry I was. Noticing he had no belt around his waist, I tried to get on his lap and hug him to show him that I cared about how he felt. But , lo and behold, he took out his belt from his pocket and proceeded to whip me like there was no tomorrow. Then, picking me up like I was a sack of potatoes, he carried me downstairs, unhooked our laundry line, and tied me up with my hands hanging from the ceiling. A few hours later, he untied me, and simply said, `you lost part of our family name. This lost vat of red wine may have been for your wedding, or for your other two brothers weddings . This is shameful; remember this mistake you have made, and never allow such an accident to ever occur again. How can one ever forget such an experience. My father had been right, of course, and I was too childish at the time to know any better, but I know he meant me no harm, and only wanted to teach me an honest lesson so that I would learn from my mistake. Learn from my youthful mistake I did, for today I can make my own wine, appreciate its true spiritual merit, and never forget it was all because my father had every right to be proud of his family name. Simon, Dear friend, my soul is as old as the universe itself; It hurts sometimes, but I get by! Please tell everyone you can to at least follow me on twitter; I am teaching the world, now, as a Spiritual Master! Take Care, All The Best!

CGI 3D Animated Short "I, Pet Goat II" by – Heliofant – YouTube

CGI 3D Animated Short "I, Pet Goat II" by – Heliofant