Nearly Hung

A nice woman that we had seen a couple of times before came to see us for another session.   She looked to be in her mid fifties, intelligent, well dressed, and carrying her small dog in her handbag, his cute little face poking out.
The lady's husband was deceased and I had spoken with him before.
I felt that her husband was present in the room, so we got started.  He spoke to her for a while, then revealed why he had taken his own life.  I knew he had done this, but he hadn't explained why during previous sessions.  This had remained a big question for her and was finally answered.  As her husband continued speaking to her, I noticed the lady's mother and father in the room as well, who to the best of my recollection, I had never spoken with. 
There was also another man present in a German uniform, but I said nothing about him, a little unsure who he was.
That's when I said. "They are saying something about someone being nearly hung!"  She didn't respond. 
A bit perplexed, I asked? "Do you understand this?"
There was a slight pause. "Yes!" she replied.
I still didn't understand, so I gently asked, "Would you explain it to me?"
She looked at me. "I was nearly hung!" she replied, pausing for a moment then continuing. "I was in a concentration camp for about two years.  I was about five years old.  One day I was in a line with other children, and they were hanging us one at a time. It got to my turn and I said to the German officer:  'If you were to hang me from a skinny branch on that tree over there, it would probably break and I'd fall to the ground and I'd be alright, and you'd be alright too, because no one could blame you because the tree broke, so we'd both be alright!'  He looked down at me and said, 'Get out of here!'  I did."
I was almost speechless.  Now I knew who had said that to me.  I struggled emotionally for a few minutes unsure whether to tell her that the German officer was present.
When I finally I told her, she erupted in anger, all her pain welling up. "I hope he rots in hell!" she yelled, unable to understand why he was present. "They killed my entire family, everyone!"
I could feel the German officer was trying to help her, perhaps attempting some atonement for his deeds. She might have asked me why he was there and what he wanted, but I can't quite recall.
You could have cut the air with a knife at that moment.
I was, myself, feeling intense emotion, so I let myself be guided. "You know, I can't even imagine what you have been through," I said.  "All I can tell you is that he is going around trying to make amends for the things he did."
"I don't care!"  she responded.
Needless to say this was very intense.  I took a deep breath as spirit tried another approach. "You know, in a strange way he saved your life, as well as whomever it was that put it in your head to say what you said to him."  I don't remember if she responded.
I knew the spirit people were trying to get her to let go of her anger.  After awhile, I told her that her mother was present.  But how could I prove it?  That was tough, because she was so small when they were separated.  I asked "Is there anything you know about your mother that she could say to you to let you know that it's her?"
She thought for a few moments.  "Yes, ask my mother if the name I have now was given to me by the woman that raised me or by her."
I told her that her mother had named her.
"That's right," she said.
We saw this lady once more, I think, and she seemed different; more peaceful.
A long time after our last meeting with her we were holding a group session at the same location.  Marti drew a portrait of a lady.  When I looked at it, I recognized her as our client who had been in the concentration camp.  Marti looked at the picture and agreed with me.
We had the thought that she might have die.  So the next day I found her number and gave her a call.  I got hold of her.  Relieve she was alive, we explained the picture and that we were wondering if she was alright.  She informed me she had been diagnosed with breast cancer.  I told her I believed the portrait was drawn by her unseen family, who were aware of her situation.
"Oh well, if I die, I will be with my husband!" she stated, almost sounding resolved to it.
We talked some more.  She sounded different to Marti and me; lighter somehow.  We said our goodbyes and wished her well.  We have not seen her since.
If she has crossed over, I know she is reunited with her family.