The following story I translated from the french book Présence des Invisibles by Robert Laffont, 1983.
To be understood by my reader, I must recall that in one of my books I had the imprudence to give a “magic” recipe to forge a small but strong tool which one can use for good and for evil. If you will forgive me for quoting myself, here is what I wrote: “Pick up a pebble on the beach or a pebble in the countryside – any small stone will do – place it on the pediment of a cabinet or on the top board of a closet in a relatively difficult place to reach. Every night, at the hour when you are in the habit of sleeping the most deeply, wake up, leave your bed to accomplish this perfectly free and absurd gesture: turning the stone once, without brusqueness or bad humor, by strongly applying your will to transfer to it the merit of the effort you have just made by getting up in the middle of the night just to touch him. This exercise must be performed 365 consecutive nights without any interruption for any reason whatsoever. At the end of this time you will have in your possession a pebble endowed with a prodigious power. By wisely directing the energy with which it is charged, you will be able to succeed in any enterprise, to act within range or at a distance on anyone, to control beings and events.
Mrs Marie T – who can only be asserted by reading her letter that she is a reasonable and cultivated person – decided on 26 March 1973 (remember the dates, they are important) to try the “magic pebble”.
“I began this experience,” she writes me, “with enthusiasm, faith and enough will and freedom to carry it out without problems … I choose the small, dark gray stone from a small wood for its gentle form and the originality of the clear streaks that covered it. I like pebbles in general, and this one particularly pleased me.
“For 330 days, I followed your indications very scrupulously, and I manipulated the stone as it should be done. Then, one morning, suddenly, I felt the strange and very strong impression that this stone was evil. This painful sensation persisted on the following days, without my being able to undo it by any reasoning. It’s hard to explain, but I even felt repulsive when I looked up at him. On the 330th day, so close to the goal, I resolved to rid myself of this pebble. It was a firm decision, quickly executed. My husband and my sister are witnesses of what happened then: I took the stone with a certain ceremony, wrapped it in a white paper, tied it and entrusted it to my husband to throw it into the Seine. My sister was with me all this time. All three of us, my husband, my sister, and myself threw the stone into the river. This was in the last days of February 1974.
“In November of that year, I went to the Broussais hospital to undergo preliminary examinations for a very serious cardiac surgery. The date was halted, but on the 27th of February 1975, the day of the operation, I had an outbreak of fever, and the operation was postponed to a later date. It took place on the 26th of March 1975, and succeeded very well. But there is no mystery … ”
It is now that the mundane account of an interrupted experience will take the turn of a fairy tale. Here is the rest of the story:
“On the morning of 14 November 1976,” continued Mrs. T, “I climbed on the stepladder to get a book from my library. I put some order on the shelves, took the book, and I was about to go down when I stopped. In its place, clearly visible, I saw my pebble. In an inexplicable way, on seeing it, I felt an immense joy, out of proportion to the event that I had not had time to deepen and contradict my feelings when I challenged myself. Then came unbelief: it was not possible. This pebble could not be there. I touched it, palpated it; it was very present, as incredible as it is. I immediately telephoned my husband and sister who did not want to believe me and told me I must not be feeling well. However, when they saw the pebble they recognizable it by its shape. They were stunned, and they did not know what to say: it was indeed that particular stone.
“Since then, we have been extrapolating. What happened ? Have we all dreamed that we threw the stone into the river? That seems unlikely. Did one of us indulge in a joke of doubtful taste? We talked about it very seriously. No. The stone had been thrown into the Seine, and it is indeed my pebble, and not another, which has returned. ”
There are some other explanations that we can give. Maybe it was a nature spirit, a water elemental maybe, that wanted to give Mrs T a service… for a reason unknown to us o give the stone back. Or maybe a guardian spirit or guide that appreciated the experience and did not want her to abandon it.