“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(The wind increased in intensity, blowing across the valley from the south and racing up Holley Road. Sheets of rain raced before it. I went into the bedroom to close windows. As I did so, a terrific blast of wind struck. Dimly in the racket, as I watched the heavy rain, I heard Jane cry out. I thought she may have yelled at the cats—but in the kitchen I saw that she was sitting at the table with shards of glass littering the rug at her feet. For some reason that day I’d forgotten to stopper the storm door, and the sudden blast of wind had slammed it shut with enough force to shatter the bottom of the two glass panels.

(At first I couldn’t believe my eyes. The broken glass had catapulted toward Jane, yet she sat unharmed by the razor-like edges. Underneath the table I found a large jagged piece of glass, close to a foot across, propped up against the inner table leg where I usually sit. In some strange quirk of speed and physics, this knife-edged piece had not only been blown into the kitchen, but had managed to turn nearly a right angle, missing Jane, in order to come to rest opposite her legs against the table’s leg. It could have severely cut her.