The day I had lunch with Chico Xavier and a daughter of Silvio Santos

Visiting the medium’s home and witnessing his gift of psychography shortly before he died shook my skepticism.

Year 2001. I was chosen by the management of ‘Contigo’ magazine to go to Uberaba (MG) to do a special article on Chico Saverio. They wanted a skeptical reporter, immune to the influence of the alleged mediumistic powers of Brazil’s most famous promoter of spiritism.

The first contact was tense. Chico’s guardian, the dental surgeon Eurípedes dos Reis, who claimed to be his adopted son, greeted me with a defensive attack. He said he didn’t trust reporters because he had been the victim of lies in reports.

After the initial hostility, I took a tour of the house where the medium lived. I was struck by the simplicity. All clean and tidy, with no sign of luxury. The room, with its single bed and religious images on the walls, looked like the home of a Franciscan.

Weakened, Chico no longer spoke. He needed help getting around. He squeezed his thin hand lightly. He looked at me for a while while Euripides explained the reason for my presence. A fragile, vulnerable man, apparently with little conscience. My impression would change hours later.

Invited to lunch, I joined a small group at the kitchen table. There was a couple with a girl. They were Silvia Abravanel, Silvio Santos’ ‘daughter number 2’, with her then husband, the entrepreneur Murilo Abbas, and the pretty Luana. They took their daughter, born with some health problems, for a consultation with Chico Xavier.

The collaborators of the vehicle asked me not to mention in the article the presence of the relatives of the conductor and owner of SBT. I agreed to keep the secret out of respect for the child. We all ate salad, rice, beans, pasta and chicken. Chico was sitting between us, fed with the help of a volunteer from his social works.

Hours later, I was at Casa da Prece to attend a psycho session open to the public. I remained at the medium’s table. The space was packed. There were dozens of people looking out the windows and out.

That almost motionless Chico I had seen earlier was now gathering strength to receive messages from the disembodied. Every time a mother, a father, someone corroded by the nostalgia of pain, recognized the words read on the sheets filled in at that moment, an explosion of emotion took its place. Murmurs, tears, chorus of “thank God”.

On the way back to the editorial office in Sao Paulo, the magazine editor asked for my verdict on Chico Xavier. “It’s all true,” I replied, betraying my familiar skepticism. I was 23 years old. From that experience I have come to respect more the faith of people and of those who use their mediumship for good.

celebrity pilgrimage

Over the decades, hundreds of artists have traveled to Uberaba to meet Chico Xavier and ask him for advice. The list of believers includes Roberto Carlos, Xuxa, the late Gugu, Vera Fischer and former President Collor.

One of the most famous real stories was played by the actress and comedian Nair Bello (1931-2007). She lost a son, Manoel, 20, in a car accident in 1975.

Some time later, she was with her husband, Irineu, before the medium. You psychographed a letter from the boy. Nair has said countless times in interviews that that message helped her endure the pain of pain.

Chico Xavier died at the age of 92 on June 30, 2002, the day the team won their fifth championship in the Japanese Cup. He left in a moment of celebration for the Brazilians, as he had foreseen.

His legacy survives: almost 500 books on spirituality, hundreds of disciples, thousands of families benefited from his mediumistic activity, a philanthropic work still existing in his Casa da Prece.

Source: Terra

Emily

Emily Jhon is a product and service reviewer at Gossipify, known for her honest evaluations and thorough analysis. With a background in marketing and consumer research, she offers valuable insights to readers. She has been writing for Gossipify for several years and has a degree in Marketing and Consumer Research from the University of Oxford.