The Secret of Coffee Grinds

by Sema Bal

Overview

I was motivated to write this memoir by my beloved mother. When I started to write my first book, Lilith’s Awakening, Mom came to me in a dream, telling me, “Write about what you know and are good at.” The next day, I told my husband, and he did agree with Mom. I decided to take their advice and put my first book on hold. My dear clients had a big part in the writing process when I told them about it.

The concept of the book is how I wanted to introduce Turkish coffee images reading. It contains all my memories and life experiences since I became a coffee messenger—about thirty years of perceptive experiences with loved ones who have crossed.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781504331159
Publisher:	Balboa Press
Publication date:	07/28/2015
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	154
File size:	215 KB

Read an Excerpt

The Secret of Coffee Grinds

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By Sema Bal

Balboa Press

Copyright © 2015 Sema Bal
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5043-3114-2

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CHAPTER 1

About Me

Hi, my name is Sema. I am also known as a Turkish coffee messenger; some people also know me as (Viktoria Ballavoski, author of Lilith's Awakening. I am a wife, mother, and writer who leads an ordinary life. I have been with my soul mate for twenty-four years. We've had ups and downs, but we've always had love and respect for each other. We stand side by side to overcome the obstacles we face, and we have been rewarded with three incredible children. I could not ask for more.

I was motivated to write this memoir by my beloved mother. When writing my first book, Lilith's Awakening, my mom came to me in my dreams and told me, "Write what you know, what you are best at." The next day I told my husband, and he agreed with my mother. I took their suggestion but put it on hold until I finished my first book.

My clients had a significant part in creating this book. When I told them about an idea for the book and how I wanted to introduce Turkish coffee reading. I wanted to share my life's experiences and memos because I have been a coffee massenger for about thirty years and have been involved with loved ones who have crossed over.

They said, "What are you were waiting for? Do it! We are here for you; whatever you need, you've got it." They kept their promises and wrote about their experiences with Turkish coffee reading with me.

I want to clarify that I am not here to compare myself with ordinary psychics. I am not trying to persuade anyone. As a coffee reader and predictor, I do not see my myself approaching others. Turkish coffee cup reading is customary in all parts, of the Balkans, as well in Europe and the Middle East, and has been for centuries. Whenever there is a gathering, there always will be Turkish coffee readings; as soon as people are done with their coffees, someone will flip the cups over.

When friends and I are out dining at Turkish restaurants and have dessert and coffee, we instinctively turn over the Turkish coffee cup. It is all about having fun, and we laugh because it is our pastime.

Yes, there are some outstanding clairvoyants, mediums, and psychics in the world. Coffee cup reading is its own gift. I am able to read your, past, present, and future. Remember we seek no formation. Never prepay them online before going to see one. If they are gifted with coffee, the grinds' images will show them. If you are hoping to hear from loved ones, I will pass along the message.

My mother's uncle was a well-known medium in the former Yugoslavia. He lived in a town called Desova, and the people called him Hoch Desova. Based on what I have heard about him, he was amazing. In World War II, Germans found out about his clairvoyance, and they wanted him to work for them. When Hoch Desova refused to help them, they killed him.

When I was a young child, my parents told us to be open to everything we heard, saw, and felt. All the faiths, and God, play a significant role in my life. I believe in giving others a second chance. I try not to distrustful, and I strive to be a happy person. I always give my positive energy to others.

This does not mean that I do not get angry. I yell and scream as well as the next person. But I learned not to hold on to the past. Don't change your lifestyle to please others — always forgive. However, I do not forget. We are all human, and we are not perfect; we have our faults and make mistakes, and we learn from them.

Don't judge others until you have heard their side of the story. And don't believe others until you have seen it for yourself. Do not judge or act on gossip. Think twice before you do or say something you may regret. Later in life, you never know when life's boomerang that you threw will return and hit you. As I said, I am human, and I did let others take advantage of me many times in my life. Because we psychics are gifted, this does not mean that it does not happen to us — it does happens because we put our trust in others.

I have known a person who for a few years now has taken advantage of my caring nature. There is nothing that will stop me from helping others who need my help, and I still do not lose my trust of others. To all those who have taken advantage of others, ask yourself why your life is not going well, instead of questioning God. What have you done to deserve it? Maybe it's karma,

Some psychic mediums know how to manipulate others. They know when you are almost defenseless, and they act upon your feelings. Psychic mediums and other gifted people are supposed to help others, not play with people's emotions and rob them blind. Please don't fall for someone who gets information about you and feeds back what you have given to him or her. When you have found one rotten apple, do not throw away the basket full off apples, because the rest are still good.

Through this book, I talk about how to be your own psychic, and I hope that I am able to teach you how to read Turkish coffee cups. I will not be surprised if you do discover a clairvoyant side to yourself. Do not forget: practice makes perfect. The more readings you do, the more you learn about yourself and others. I feel compelled to help people see different psychics out there.

I believe everyone has psychic abilities, and some are stronger than others. They may be able to discover their own gifts later in life; some gifts are passed on through generations, and some recognize their gifts after a life-changing experience.

CHAPTER 2

Gifted Kids

Believe me when I say my kids also have gifts in their own way. My older daughter, Mercan, does not talk about it or deal with it.

Mercan said, "I saw white clouds flowing AJ. As I tried to call out, AJ's name they disappeared."

I said, "It must be her angels watching over her."

The night of 9/11, Mercan sleepwalked into our room and gave an ear-piercing scream. She said, "Who is the strange man that is sleeping in my sister's bed? Where is my sister?"

Her father and I were having difficulty calming her down. We took her back to her sister's room and showed her that her sister was in her bed and that everything was okay. It was only a dream.

I said, "You see, Mercan? There is no strange man in your sister's bed."

That evening helicopters and army planes flew low enough to shake the house. I tried to keep the kids calm and away from the TV. The fear affected all of us, but the kids were more influenced by seeing the twin towers falling down. It was impossible not be affected. All schools were closed down for a few days. In our case, we went through a stage where Mercan had anxiety. During the days, Mercan had no problems; however, at night she would have nightmares and run into our room screaming.

Mercan said, "Get up! Soldiers are coming, and we are going to war. They are here to get us!"

My husband and I kept an eye on Mercan's behavior. Soon Mercan would not go downstairs to the basement by herself. I know there is a thing in our basement, but it never showed itself to the kids until 9/11. The kids and I saw a shadow of a man wearing a top hat. I supposed he was a soldier or sheriff. He was trying to tell us he was here to protect us, and we realized he was harmless.

Mercan does not want to talk about her gift, and I don't push her on it. When she is ready, she will be open for it again.

Nurcan is my second child. Since she was about three years old, she has had her own little world. After Mercan started school, Nurcan was alone at home. I tried to spend time with Nurcan, but she wanted to be by herself in her room. She would say, "I need to go to my room. We need a time-out, Mommy!"

From the kitchen, I heard the conversation she was having with someone. I went to her room and asked, "Who you are talking to, Nurcan?"

Nurcan said, "I'm talking to my teacher. She is asking for homework and we are discussing schoolwork."

I did not see or hear anyone. I assumed she had an imaginary friend and said, "Sounds excellent. Make sure you listen to your teacher."

A few days later, I heard her having a conversation with someone again. I asked Nurcan, "Who are you talking to now?"

Nurcan said, "I'm playing with my friend." She was lying down on the couch watching TV. It was unusual for Nurcan to be out of her room with her imaginary friends at that time of day.

I asked her, "Where are your teacher and friends?"

She said, "They did not come to school today, Mummy."

"Why didn't they?"

She said, "They have a day off today."

Only an imaginary friend. I know how to handle this, I said to myself.

A few weeks passed. Nurcan kept getting up in the middle of the night, coming into our room, and sleeping in our bed. I thought we had overcome this issue.

Nurcan said, "I want to watch cartoons, Mommy. In the TV room."

I said, "No, Nurcan, you have to go back to your room and sleep in your bed."

Nurcan would not go to her room, and she would throw tantrums. She said, "I don't want to! I want to watch the cartoons, Mommy!"

I gave up and said, "Okay, Nurcan, just for tonight."

I covered her up and went back to bed myself. An hour or two later, I got up hoping she had fallen asleep. She was wide awake, playing and giggling. "Why aren't you sleeping yet?" I asked.

"I am playing with my friend," she replied.

I picked her up and took to her bed. "Tell your friend to go and come back tomorrow."

Nurcan said, "She lives in my closet, Mommy."

I still did not know whether it was her imaginary friend, or whether she saw spirits.

Nurcan is in her late teens now. She still sees them, so it was not an imaginary friend as I had thought. Nurcan does not want to communicate with them right now. She wants to educate herself on how to channel with them and how to control it. She will able to communicate with loved ones who have crossed over. Nurcan reads her friends' Turkish coffee cups, as I used to read my friends'. Some of my friends were disappointed, and others were freaked out by it.

A few months ago, Nurcan told me about her experience the night before. Mercan and Nurcan were watching a horror movie in their apartment. The night before, they agreed to share the same bed. On that night Nurcan went to her bed and fell asleep facing to the wall. She heard what she thought was her sister come into the room. Nurcan turned around to say good night to her.

The next morning Nurcan asked her sister, "What time did you go to your own room last night?"

Mercan said, "I never did come to your room last night. I went straight to my own bed."

Regarding Nurcan's visitor, one person I can think of is my mother. She used to come to my bedroom when I wasn't able to sleep or when I felt scared. We would talk and hug, and she would stay with me until I fell asleep.

I said, "It has to be Annane [Grandmother] Nurcan."

Ozcan is my only son. I always tell him he is my favorite son, and he finds it amusing and says, "Mom, I am the only boy you have." He is the luckiest kid ever, and his existence today is a miracle. God has returned him back to us. It seems I am giving him extra attention and pampering. Even his sisters have mentioned it few times, but they spoil him as well. They understand why.

Two nights before his birth, I dreamed that I was in the hospital giving birth to him. As soon as he was born, the nurse took him from me and passed him to my father. My father held him up high, and I kept saying, "Why are you taking him away from me?"

Dad asked me, "Do you have a name for him?"

I said, "Yes, I do."

"What is his name, Sema?"

I said, "Ozcan."

He told me he liked it; it means "pure soul." After that he passed Ozcan back to me. I held him tight in my arms and made sure a nurse would not take him from me. The nurse was trying to take him from me at that moment I woke up.

Two days later I went into labor at 3:45 in the morning. During my labor, we ran into a complication. The doctor said, "The baby's heart has stopped! We need an emergency caesarean. Get the room ready right now."

There are no words to explain my feelings then. I looked at my husband and saw the fear on his pale face. He looked confused and kept saying, "With God willing, everything is going to be okay." He wiped his tears at the same time, trying to hide it from me and comfort me. He said we would get our son back, His head turned to the heart monitoring system. We couldn't do anything to save our unborn child.

I started to pray as I had never prayed before, I said to the Lord if you need to take someone, "You have to take me." I heard my father telling me, "One never makes a deal with the Lord regarding the exchange of lives. We are all God's children. Remember the verse from the sacred books: God says if you want something, ask him, and he shall grant you whatever you need."

I placed one hand on my stomach and held my husband's hand with the other. I closed my eyes. God, I never asked for anything other than good health. You have given us as much as we need. I am asking you now, please give him back to us. Grant me this prayer, as you stated in the sacred books.

I then heard my guardian angels chanting with me. As I was about to finish my last sentence, I heard the baby's heartbeat from the monitor.

God has given us a second chance with our son, and we are blessed to have him. He is special to us, and I cannot imagine my life without my kids. God is good as he watches over us.

I do not wish that experience on my worst enemy. After we lived through that, I remembered the dream I had two days prior to his birth. It was a sign I should have considered; It's well-known that pregnant women's dreams are unpredictable.

My son never met my mom or my father. However, a few days after the passing of my mother, he wouldn't let us sit on the chair next to the side of the china closet. He would say, "Do not sit there. Grandma is sitting on that chair." From time to time, he would mention both my parents and would pointedly look at Annane (his grandma) and Dede (his grandfather).

A couple years later, one day I was picking him up from kindergarten. When we came home, he said he was going to play with his father's computer in the basement. I wanted to sort the washing, so I told him to go play. He went downstairs, and I was about to take the laundry down. Not even a few minutes later, he ran back upstairs. "Why are you upstairs, Ozcan?" I asked.

Ozcan said, "Stan will not allow me to play with Dad's computer, Mommy."

"Who is Stan?" I asked,

He said, "The man downstairs."

I said, "There is nobody downstairs." I knew we had the top hat man, but he had never spoken about him before. "Let us go check it out together. We'll see who is in the basement."

We went to the recreation room in the cellar, and I said, "You see, Ozcan? There is no one here. Go ahead and play on the computer. I will stay with you."

Ozcan kept saying, "But Stan said I'm not allowed to, Mommy."

I said, "Who is Stan, Ozcan?"

He said, "The man with a hat."

"He talks to you?" I asked,

"Yes, Mommy."

Oh my lord, that is the top hat man! I remembered my husband told Ozcan not to download games on his computer a few days ago. "Would you be able to describe Stan for me?" I asked.

Ozcan said, "Stan is tall and skinny. He wears dark clothes and wears a hat."

I couldn't believe the top hat man spoke to my son. He even gave his name, and my son now talked about him as if he was an ordinary person. His harmless soul had not yet crossed over. I said, "Ozzy, do not be afraid of him."

Ozcan looked confused and did not understand what I was trying to tell him. I guessed Ozcan did not realize Stan was not a regular guy. I decided not to mention anything about Stan to my daughters.

The girls had recently gotten over their fear of going to the basement by themselves. I did not want to put fear back in their minds.

One day I was busy with a client, and I asked Mercan to check on Ozcan. All of a sudden I heard them running up the stairs to the second-floor kitchen. I asked them what was going on.

Mercan said, "The hat man is downstairs!"

I said, "What do you mean?"

Mercan said, "He was watching Ozcan from the laundry."

Ozcan said, "His name is Stan, Mercan."

Mercan said, "What is going on? What did you say his name is?"

Ozcan repeated, "His name is Stan."

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from The Secret of Coffee Grinds by Sema Bal. Copyright © 2015 Sema Bal. Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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