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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Thomas-O on 2024-11-12 14:12:39+00:00.


Alondra was a faith healer, and like every single one of her kind, she was a complete and total fraud. She came from a long line of faith healers, those who would go town to town, set up a revival tent, preach a sermon, and then heal those who came forth, all in the name of God and money.

I worked for Alondra as part of her travelling revival show. My job was to vet audience members before the show began, helping decide which of them would be invited on stage to have hands laid upon them and supposedly be healed. I’d start my day in the parking lot, which was often just a field on the outskirts of whatever town we were visiting. I’d watch intently as people got out of their cars and headed toward the revival tent.

Typically, I’d keep an eye out for people who used a wheelchair to get around, but still had the ability to walk short distances. I’d spot them right away – the passenger door of their car would pop open, they’d slowly get out, and then shuffle over to the trunk of the car, where their companion would pull out their wheelchair and guide them into a seated position. These were the people who’d get invited onstage to be healed. I’d follow behind them and covertly listen in to their conversations so that I could pick up some useful tidbits of information, like their names. I’d take note of where they sat, and then pass all that information on to our production crew.

Sometimes I’d see people in wheelchairs who couldn’t walk even a little bit. There was no chance in hell they’d be invited up to the stage – after all, God will only heal those who can meet him halfway.

Now, just so you have an understanding of how everything worked, let me run you through a typical revival. Start by imagining this:

It’s revival day, and the show is beginning. Alondra starts her sermon by spouting off whatever Biblical nonsense she’s decided to talk about that day. It usually centers around Jesus healing the faithful, but sometimes it’s completely random, just Bible quotes that Alondra selected from some deep recess of her memory.

While she’s busy telling lies to the believers, the crew coordinates which audience members are going to be invited onstage. I key my radio and speak to Kyle, our production supervisor. “The guy in the left section wearing a blue shirt and red Angels ballcap,” I say. “He’s in a wheelchair, but I saw him take some steps. He should go first. His name’s Lawrence. The wife is Shelly.” Kyle listens intently as I tell him about Lawrence and the others I vetted.

Alondra then brings the sermon back into focus by telling the crowd that she herself has been selected by Jesus Christ to carry out his work in the heartland of America. She takes a big dramatic pause and looks out to the expectant crowd, some of whom want to be healed, and some who just want to see God’s hand in action. She clears her throat and points her hands at the audience. “God is speaking to me right now,” she says. “He’s telling me there’s someone here who’s been in a lot of pain lately, someone who prays every day that he’ll be able to get up out of his wheelchair and dance with his wife once again.” She turns and looks directly at our mark. “Lawrence. Yes, you in the blue shirt. Christ is calling you. Come on up here with your beautiful wife Shelly.”

Lawrence and Shelly, faces full of happy tears, make their way to the front. Alondra tells them how special they are, how she knows that Lawrence has been dreaming about the day when he can stand and hold his wife close once again.

She lays a hand on Lawrence’s forehead and commands him to be healed. Immediately two of our stagehands run forward and lift him from his chair. Lawrence, adrenalin pulsing through his veins, puts his legs down and stands up. Whatever pain he may be feeling in his legs is eclipsed by the applause from the crowd, and a desire to not piss off Jesus. He takes a step. Then another. His wife reaches into her purse and puts all her money in a nearby donation bin. Others in the crowd do the same as Lawrence spins in a circle and smiles. The next person is called to the stage and the healing continues.

And that’s how it went. Town to town, dollar to dollar. We mostly “healed” people in wheelchairs, but we would also “heal” those who suffered from any sort of chronic pain, and even cancer patients. It was by far the best paying job I ever had, and I grew close to everyone in the crew. We were a den of thieves and liars, but we were honest and noble amongst each other.

Alondra was middle-aged and very charismatic, both onstage and off. She could preach a sermon about watching paint dry, and it would somehow still be the best sermon you ever heard. Her father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had all been faith healers. It was how she was raised, and she intrinsically knew what everyone around her needed to hear. She dominated any conversation she was part of, but she was always so interesting that nobody minded. When she wasn’t preaching, she spoke about hockey, purses, horses, TV shows, and pretty much anything except God and Jesus.

Kyle, our production supervisor, had once been a firm believer in Christ. Initially he’d joined up with Alondra under the belief that her powers were truly God-given, and not the result of trickery and deception. He was quickly disappointed, but soon found solace within the fat wads of cash he was making. During his first few years, he rationalized his actions by claiming that he’d donate his money to charity, but after a while he stopped saying that. There were ten of us in total who ran the show. I joined the crew knowing from the beginning that it was all a scam, but separating the foolish from their money didn’t bother me one bit.

The beginning of the end came one morning when Alondra walked out of her trailer and addressed the rest of us. “I’m going to heal an amputee,” she said matter-of-factly. We laughed. “No. I’m serious,” she said. “Jesus came to me in a dream last night. He told me how to do it.”

The rest of that day, all she could talk about was how Jesus had spoken to her, and that she’d never experienced anything like it before. “He glowed,” she recalled. “I’ve never felt so at peace than when he was with me. I was sitting at a large table with him. And then, suddenly, there were eight of him, and they all spoke in unison, telling me exactly what I need to know.”

It was weird. I mean, here was a woman who never discussed God or Jesus unless she was trying to con people out of their money, and all the sudden, in the most earnest way, she was telling us how great Jesus was, and that she had dreamed about EIGHT copies of him. We kept trying to laugh it off, but that only made her more insistent that she had a newly divine purpose.

At that point, we had a couple more days before our next revival. We were camped outside some Podunk town, still setting up our tent and equipment. Alondra pulled me aside and spoke to me. “I need you to go to the ocean and get some seaweed. Burn it on the sand and then bring the ash back to me.”

“What?!” I said.

“I need ash from seaweed.  The seaweed needs to be burned on the sand. It can’t be done any place else, and it must be done today. That’s what Jesus told me.”

I protested. “Are you insane? Even if I wanted to, we’re two-hundred miles from the ocean!”

“We have time,” she said, holding out the key to her Mercedes. “Take my car.”

“Can’t you go?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. I have to stay here and meditate.”

“Since when do you meditate?” I asked.

She ignored my question and forced the car key into my hand and smiled. “Make sure you do it right. If you don’t follow the directions exactly, I’ll know.” She turned around and walked back to her trailer.

I quickly found Kyle, who was helping set up the tent. “Alondra is acting really weird,” I said.

“Gee, ya think?” Kyle replied.

“She’s making me drive to the ocean and bring back some seaweed.”

“What?” Kyle said as he took off his hat and scratched his head in confusion, “There’s too much work here!”

“Why don’t you go speak to her?” I asked. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her.”

“I’ll be right back.” Kyle stormed off to her trailer, but not more than five minutes later, he returned. He was clearly distressed. “Maybe you should just go do it,” he said with shaky hands. “I don’t think I can reason with her right now.”

I looked down at the car key in my hand. “Really?”

“Think of it as a day at the beach. At least it gets you out of helping with the set up,” he said.

I clamped my hand around the key while pondering my options. “There’s no way I’m going to drive two-hundred miles to the ocean! Maybe I’ll just go into town and catch a couple of movies. Alondra won’t know the difference, and I’ll just pick up some ashes from that campsite over the hill.”

Kyle glanced over at Alondra’s trailer and shook his head, almost like he was in fear of her. “No, she’ll know if you don’t do it right.”

“Man, what did she say to you?” I asked.

“It’s not really what she said, it’s how she said it,” he replied. “She told me to tell you to do as she asked. But the way she spoke her words…” he trailed off for a moment. “It just made me scared. I can’t really explain it.”

I rolled my eyes, but I knew there was no more discussion to be had. Anyway, Alondra had always paid me well and treated me like family. I supposed it wouldn’t kill me to do what she asked. I got into her car and drove off, giving Kyle a wave of my hand as I passed him. ...


Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1gplm3u/god_healed_an_amputee/

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