The Prophecy of Kew

Friday, February 22, 2013

The Prophecy of Kew – The prophecy that predicted the events at the Vatican today more than 35 years ago

Many of the more than seven billion people on planet Earth have heard of the Secrets of Fatima – a series of visions and prophecies witnessed by three young Portuguese shepherds in 1917 allegedly of Blessed Virgin Mary. 

According to the official public version by Catholic Church, the three visions and secrets related to the Warning of Hell, World War (I and II) and the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II. In contrast, the original and uncorrupted visions were supposedly about the End of Hell, the warning against the church involvement in World War and its destruction at the sign of the last Pope – in reference to the 1,000 year old prophecy of St Molochy (aka the revelations of Moloch).

Yet more than thirty five years ago, in a leafy suburb of Kew in Victoria, a young boy (not much older than the children of Fatima at the time of their vision) experienced a prophetic vision every bit as significant as Fatima that would change his life forever. It was the foretelling of the very events being witnessed at the Vatican in Rome today.

The Prophecy of Kew

Here is the exact words of the young boy who experienced the vision, recounted and published first in 2001and then updated in 2005  – a full 7 years before the events today and discussed on many dozens of interviews and audio conversations since:

One night (August 15, 1977), I had this vision. I was standing in front of two massive doors. At first, I did not know where I was. In front of me the doors were adorned with the most intricate and fine gold images of battles and conquests, of saints and martyrs. It was as if the whole history of the western world was immortalised in great gold panels across these huge doors. For what seemed an age I stood gazing upon the splendor and detailed scenes of these doors at which point I thought “wow these must be worth a fortune”.   

With that thought, the great doors swung open and I then knew I was standing at the doors to St Peters in Rome, although in real life St Peters doesn’t have doors like these. I looked around for any other sign of a person, but found none, so I entered through the great doors.    

As I walked into the Church, the thought that no one else was around intrigued me, you would kind of expect someone around. Just as that thought had appeared in my head I could see in front of me in the distance at the central Altar of St Peter’s a man dressed like the Pope. He was standing with his hands over the altar and his head down.    

I did not immediately recognize him as The Pope, because this man was much shorter and rounder than Pope Paul VI.    

Being a true believer at the time in the Roman Catholic faith I immediately took pity on him for whatever was troubling his mind and started to walk closer to him. As I approached close enough so that we could see each others eyes he looked up at me. His face was round and stern. He wasn’t Pope Paul VI, yet he was dressed as the Pope.    

Even so, he looked like the Pope, so I stretched out my arms to embrace him and comfort him. But instead of embracing me he recoiled in fear, a look of total horror before raising his left arm to protect himself. In retrospect, this was one of the most potent memories of the dream, the look of total and complete fear on the face of the little round man with the stern face, dressed like the Pope.    

And at that very moment the entire Basilica started to crumble around us, the ceiling, the walls, the altar. The next moment I was standing on top of the crumbled ruins of St Peters alone.   

The next day the dream troubled me. What did the symbolism of the doors mean? Why did the Pope cower and recoil in front of me when I approached open arms? Why did the church fall down and I survive but the office of Pope was no more?   

Over months I began to forget the dream. It was just a dream and a silly result of a clearly overly imaginative mind. But twelve months to the day (on August 15, 1978), I had the dream again. The description and the results the exact same.   

Now I was scared. This was clearly meant as a message, but what? Was I supposed to join the priesthood like so many others of my ancestors? Was I supposed to dedicate my life to saving the church? Was it somehow my destiny to save the Pope?   

From then on this dream haunted me and unsettled me as to my purpose. By the time I was twenty the pressure was unbearable and I announced to the world that I was going to become a priest. The first people I told were my family and then old friends such as Archbishop Little. He was so happy he even bought me my own set of prayer books and took me to lunch to celebrate.   

But over time no other visions came, no more conversations with God. Within a year of my grand announcement I was selling insurance for AMP.   

I did however see the exact same face of the Pope in these two dreams again some years later. While I had never forgotten the stern round face of this little man dressed as Pope, I had given up believing it was ever a real Pope as Pope John Paul I and Pope John Paul II never looked at all like him. It wasn’t until 2005 when I finally came face to face again with that same man as his image was beamed around the world. Without doubt, it was Joseph Alois Ratzinger, the exact same face I had seen as Pope in 1977.  

Source: http://www.ucadia.com/frank/frank_7dreams.htm

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