I had a dream at early dawn. There was a tower-like structure where in the middle was an inscription that reads "Bl. Almendras" or "Blessed Almendras." Almendras is a local political name. A little higher than the inscription was a man walking on a platform. The inscription was his name or as he was fondly called. He was admired. Even my nephew told me he is good and kind. But the Lord let me feel who he is. He was satan. I faced him and he faced me. I took my rosary and said it; he took a rosary and said it. But when I shouted that the Blood of Christ was shed for me, he could not say it himself, he could not repeat my declaration. And I woke up. -Diary, November 17, 2008, 11:50 p.m.
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