Numerology of the year of birth: what is destined for you. Is fate predetermined or do you choose it yourself?

As destined by fate, so it will be. I experienced the bitterness and pain of this phrase myself. My son Tim grew up weak child. Even in the maternity hospital they told me that the baby is weak, weak, and I won’t be able to go out. But I couldn’t leave Timka in the maternity hospital. But apparently, a sad fate was in store for him... When he was one year old, he was poisoned by something and almost died (but she left him with her mother, she kept an eye on him). At the age of two, he managed to break his finger on a crib. At the age of three, in kindergarten, I crawled through a hole in the fence and went for a walk. Only late in the evening did I find him, huddled under the stairs in the entrance, bitten by a dog. The fourth year was surprisingly calm. And the fifth was his last. I'll make a short digression. We have an old model of metal-plastic doors at home. That is, the door could be opened and closed from the room in such a way that it was impossible to open it from the balcony, because there is no handle on the balcony. In short, if you went onto the balcony and slammed the door, you can easily open it from the balcony. That day I had a day off from work. I took Tima from kindergarten On the way home we stopped at the market and bought some sweets and fruits. But most of all Tim liked some imported, healthy, red apples. - Mommy, at least buy me two apples! - my son begged me. Just two apples, I'm not greedy. I bought three. Two for my son, one for myself, so to speak, for testing. I wiped it and ate it on the way. Looks like a normal apple. As soon as we got home, Tim grabbed his pockets full of sweets, took an apple and went to the toilet. I also told him not to sit too long, he needs to wash the fruit. She went to the balcony herself to open the windows, otherwise the stuffiness was terrible. As soon as I walked in, the door slammed shut in a draft (as I indicated earlier, this was nothing terrible, since I could open the door myself). I just reached for the frame when I heard Tima’s quiet, quiet cough from the toilet. She threw it at the door... But it doesn’t open. Well, not at all, as if they were propped up from the other side. I got scared and started hitting the door with all my might. Even though it’s glass, I can’t break it, well, I don’t have that much strength. And the son kept coughing, just out of breath. For several minutes I rushed around the balcony looking for something heavy to break the glass - as if by evil fate - nothing. And with every sound of coughing, I realized that the situation was simply on the brink. She pushed the window open and started shouting “help,” although who cares, it’s the 14th floor. Suddenly the coughing stopped. I started calling my son, but no one answered me. I understood that something irreparable had happened. Mechanically I put my hands on the door and it opened with ease... I rushed to the toilet... Tim was lying on the floor among the scattered sweets. An apple lay to the side, bitten several times. My son's face was red and his eyes were bulging. Timka choked on an apple peel. You know, it was written by fate, and I couldn’t stop it. Some unknown forces locked me then on the balcony. Over the many years of its service, the door slammed only once and did not open, precisely on the day when, due to an evil fate, my little son died.

Elizabeth Delancey

Destined by fate

Dedicated to Aizen and Ariella and their dear father.

Montana Territory, May 1883.

Jib Booth brushed the dust off his now well-worn black Stetson hat and placed it on his head. He looked into the distance for a moment, placing his hands on his hips. In front of him was Styles, Montana.

It was obvious that the place had changed a lot over the past eleven years. When Jib was here in last time, Styles looked like a dirty outback, whose inhabitants wanted nothing more than whiskey and literally did not dry out from drinking. Now, in the May rays of the sun, relatively tall silhouettes of buildings rose, some of them were painted in red and blue colors with gray slate roofs. On the main street of the town there was even a sidewalk with special fences and benches in some places. True, as before, there was a huge puddle in the middle of the street, but there were no stumps or boulders here as before.

There were no drunken miners lying around in the mud, which were usually seen in previous years.

“You won’t believe how completely this outback has changed,” said Jib. - This town has become quite civilized.

The stagecoach driver was taking Jib's things out of the luggage compartment and muttering:

You can judge in what direction the local city has changed, but one thing is clear - changes have really happened here.

From Dillon, Jib rode on top of the stagecoach, sitting next to the coachman, who kept giving him whiskey from his flask and kept telling him everything he knew about the places they passed. It seemed that the coachman knew absolutely everything about the local residents, he was aware of all the events that were happening in every city from Idaho to Missouri. Lately all the talk here has been about the discovery of a copper deposit in Butte. The small town began to quickly transform, and now it is a real city, where many went, wanting to get rich. Stiles was not far from this city. The Continental Mining Company was forced to suspend dividend payments and lay off workers.

Jib had to listen to the cabman's stories all the way, which began to bore him. He went to Styles with only one purpose - to solve some problems and leave immediately. Such provincial towns never attracted him, and Jib had no desire to stay in them longer than necessary. And it’s unlikely that anything could keep him here now.

“I’ll see you on the way back,” Jib said, saying goodbye to the coachman.

“Good luck, buddy,” he replied and set off, heading towards the station building.

Jib reached into his pocket for his pouch, rolled a cigarette and lit a cigarette, but immediately closed his eyes - the smoke from the lit match got into his eyes. He felt a sore throat from the cheap whiskey that the coachman treated him to all the way. Jib was feeling dead tired after nearly a week of train travel from San Francisco. He didn't even move when he heard the sounds of the ore crusher coming from the Continental Mining Company's crushing plant.

Jib was now thinking about how to quickly take a warm shower, shave and get some sleep.

He looked at the doors of the buildings in the center of the city and saw a man with a huge belly, barely contained by his trousers, standing in the doorway of Bon Ton. Jib looked closely and recognized him as an old acquaintance. Jib hurried to meet him, walking along the boardwalk in front of the saloon, where there were several tables.

Dellwood Petty, old man, hello,” said Jib. The man, staring at Jib, immediately recognized him and smiled.

Oh, is that you, Jib Booth? “I didn’t know you were coming,” Dellwood said, patting Jib on the shoulder and looking him up and down. - Well, have you come to see how we live here? And you have changed, you have become a real man.

Mining ore is the work of strong and hardy men,” answered Jib, and then joked with his fat-bellied friend, the owner of the establishment: “Of course, if you sit like that all day in a pub, you’ll only get a belly like yours.”

I don't find anything bad in this. This is my life,” Dellwood replied without being offended. - Let's go have a drink, buddy, for old times' sake.

Dellwood found a pair of rickety old chairs that were familiar to Jib.

Is that old thing still here? - said Jib, dragging the rickety chair towards him with his foot. He remembered how earlier, as a boy, he would hide under these chairs and set up a firecracker under Dell's chair at the very moment when he was dozing and snoring. Waking up from the bang, Dell screamed and cursed.

Yes, my business is not prohibited yet,” Dellwood began, sitting down on a chair. - Such establishments have not yet been closed. True, local women activists are against such places. They united in the fight against booze and guns. They are trying to get municipal authorities to ban the sale of alcohol in public places. Do you know how many decrees and orders have been issued in the city now - more than frogs after the rain. So they will ensure that both pubs and bars are closed,” Dellwood said incessantly, pulling out the treasured bottle of whiskey from under his chair and immediately pouring himself, then passing it to Jib. Jib lit a cigarette.

“It’s been a wonderful May,” said Jib, pushing his chair a little towards the wall, taking one last drag and throwing the cigarette butt onto the sidewalk.

And on the main street life was in full swing: horse-drawn carriages and double carriages with convertible, carts with cargo. Miners in working clothes walked along the sidewalk, and hurrying ladies and children passed by. Jib simply did not recognize this small town, which used to be provincial. But then he recognized the former buildings. On the main street there was a printing house of the Sentinel newspaper, Blum's grocery store, and a small three-story hotel building.

The city looks great,” Jib said, taking a sip of his whiskey.

The ladies forbid us to even spit on the sidewalk,” Dellwood said, blowing out clouds of tobacco smoke, trying to show that he didn’t like all these innovations and practices.

Jib listened to him, holding his glass of whiskey between his knees and trying to roll himself another cigarette. As he lit a cigarette, he saw two ladies entering a building on which hung a sign "Williver and Company." It was something like a trading house, which had not been here before. The ladies were dressed latest fashion, the way they dressed in St. Louis or New York. They wore hats and skirts with ruffled lace.

“I would never want to be in the shoes of women,” Dellwood remarked, seeing that Jib was staring at these ladies. - They have to constantly look after themselves and their clothes. True, this is inherent in them by nature, and there’s no getting away from it, damn it.

Jib straightened his hat, took a drag from his cigarette and confirmed:

Yes, you noticed that correctly.

The sun was so warm, as if it was summer and not spring. Jib loved summers in the Montana mountains. He was fascinated by pure blue sky, hills covered with green combined with wild flowers, he was captivated by the smell of pine and wild berries. He took another drag from his cigarette, and nostalgic memories of the years he spent here in Styles came flooding back to him. As he reflected, he involuntarily remembered everything he had done since he left these places. Jib thought that in his thirty-four years he had not yet done anything that he could be proud of.

Dr. Matcalf always tried to help him, to set him on the right path. Jib sometimes wanted to do something worthwhile, useful, but he never decided to do it. Now he wanted to go east, build a good house there and live in peace. Of course, to the doctor it might not have seemed like anything, but Jib really wanted it.

Well, what are your plans, guy? - asked Dellwood. -Are you passing through here or something?

Jib looked at Dell, at his aged face, which resembled a dog's muzzle, and said:

You are very curious. What difference does it make to you why I’m here - can’t I have anything to do?

Do you know the reason for all your failures in life? It is perhaps impossible to give a definitively correct answer to this question, but we will still try to do so. Numerologists are sure that every person at birth is endowed with his own destiny, and everyone has a happy one. All troubles and troubles in life arise from the fact that we deviate from the predetermined scenario and try to resist the laws of the Universe. With help, you can learn about the scenario of your life and, based on the information received, accept the rules of the game of the Universe, thereby changing your life for the better.

How to calculate destiny numerology by year of birth

To calculate, you will need to add up all the numbers in the year of your birth. The result must be brought to a single digit. For example, let's take the year 1981. Add the numbers: 1+9+8+1=19=1+9=10=1+0=1. In this numerological calculation, the result is one. The meaning of this number in numerology will tell you what is destined by fate for a person born this year.

When you calculate your birth year number, all that remains is to read the interpretation of numbers in numerology.

The meaning of numbers in numerology and interpretation of the birth code

Birth code - 1 . People with this numerology birth number need to constantly control their emotions. Fate calls them to restraint and self-control. Most often, all the troubles of single people arise due to their emotionality, ardor and temper. In addition, they need to objectively assess their abilities and capabilities. Their zeal for success will lead them to the desired results.

Birth code - 2 . Two people are always on the verge of good and evil and cannot decide which side they are on. They are advised not to take the situation to extremes and try to achieve peace of mind.

Birth code - 3 . Such people need to think more carefully about their actions and words. They are not recommended to look for obviously easy solutions; it is better to choose the right and honest path and make efforts to achieve the goal.

Birth code - 4 . People of this birth code in numerology often suffer due to their naivety and illusions. They need to think about more mundane things. You should not often listen to your intuition, you need to be guided by the arguments of reason.

Birth code - 5 . Five people need to be more responsible about all their decisions and actions. It is important for them to understand that they are building the future here and now with their own hands.

Birth code - 7 . People of this number are destined to create and create. Nature has awarded them unique talents, so if they do not develop them and decide to do something else in life, then fate will become unbearable.

Birth code - 8 . People of this number need to value the spiritual, not the material. Even if they achieve financial success, compassion, mercy, love for nature and art should not disappear from their lives.

Well, the girl wasn't bad, it seemed. She is pleasant in appearance, and in general... too. Like many he met. Dated, broke up. They didn't touch my heart. He even thought sometimes: they invented it, this love, or what? If you read a book, people were ready to give anything for love. What about in life?

The girl looked at him and thought that perhaps she was lucky now. Nice guy, doesn't smoke, doesn't drink, calm. And mom says: “Don’t miss it, daughter, where else can you get something like this?” And really, why bother wagging from side to side? Where else are they like this? They don't lie on the ground. In general, you have to take it. It hasn't cooled down yet, until we're tired of each other.

She was the first to talk about getting married and living “like other people.” And she asked if he loved her? In response, he hummed something approving. He couldn’t say these words “I love you” and that’s it! How can you tell when... you don't love? And what is it like to love?

It seemed awkward, after everything that had happened between them, to destroy her dreams. And he himself thought: you need to stick to one shore, as long as you can run away from marriage... Not a bad girl, hard-working. good wife will.

The wedding was celebrated “like people do.” Only my soul didn’t become more cheerful after the wedding. It was somehow dreary and joyless. It’s as if I’ve fallen into a well-placed net, and now there’s no turning back. Everything seemed to be in order, but there was no unity. It seemed like everyone lived like strangers.

He recalled with a grin how he imagined family life. The house smells like pies, it’s warm, light, his wife is waiting for him with joy. And the tea is brewed, and dinner is prepared, and the tablecloth is on the table... And she smiles, chirps about something. And he feels so good, so pleased, he wouldn’t leave home anywhere.

But in reality... Sometimes my legs didn’t walk home. There was no trace of any pies; at best, he would buy them at the store. What kind of smiles are there, all in elevated tones, and no tenderness, there is no time to waste time on tenderness... Friends reassured us: everyone lives like this, why are you better than that? But he didn’t want to be “like everyone else,” he wanted it to be different... All his efforts were defeated by her stubbornness. She didn’t want to get better, didn’t want to improve their lives, and at home she began to hear swearing and rude words more and more often. Not from him, from her. And he began to visit home less and less. I went fishing, went on weekend trips with friends, sometimes women appeared in the company. But they were all the same as his wife: rude, “in their own way”... Strange women...

The management sent them for training to improve their skills. All day long they listened to lectures, communicated with colleagues from other organizations, and exchanged information. In the evening everyone gathered together again. The atmosphere was friendly, warm, people joked, laughed, it was fun and good. He hadn't spent time like this for a long time. They recalled various funny incidents that happened at work and shared opinions about the new equipment. They were all equal here, so there was no trace of any show off.

Hearing a ringing female voice, he perked up. The voice sounded like a bell, gentle and cheerful. Then he saw a woman whose voice struck him so much. Short, thin, smiling, she was the center of attention of the company. I wanted to know what everyone was laughing so merrily about, what interesting things they heard. Time passed unnoticed. They staged a real skit party, with jokes, songs, and parodies. And he, sitting in this warm, noisy company, realized that he had really missed all this time such free, relaxed, cheerful communication. There were no problems or frills, but at the same time there was no vulgarity or rudeness.

Looking into her eyes, he suddenly felt that his life had changed. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would jump out of my chest. The feeling of flight, freedom, joy was so strong that I wanted to sing and laugh. He realized that he had fallen in love. Fell in love at first sight, from the first word. She was dear, understandable, close... He looked at her and thought: I love her. This made my heart feel very, very good. This is what love is like... Warm, alive, real, sweet, soulful. I wanted to shout to the whole world that he loved her. Scream and do not be shy about these words coming from the heart. And at the same time it became scary: now she will close her eyes, and this woman will disappear. All this cannot happen to him, who has long ago decided to himself that love was invented by writers, it does not exist and there is no point in looking for it. She came, his love, with a quiet step, looking tenderly into his eyes, without flirting or seducing. Because she doesn’t need it, because she conquers everything without a fight, without requiring sacrifices and destruction.

I wanted to take this woman in my arms and spin her around, to hear her laugh and feel her breath very close. I wanted to do stupid things and look into her eyes. He wanted her to never, ever leave his life.

She understood that this man needed to speak out. You could feel it right away. He talked about work, about life, about his parents, about his hobbies... He told me what he doesn’t like and what he likes. She now knew a lot about him, personal and a little secret. She listened and was surprised that simple human communication was becoming scarce. He talked and talked and talked, sometimes falling silent in embarrassment, losing the thread. She carefully helped and guided his story, understanding that it was important for him to be heard. She knew how to listen carefully, remembering details, helping a person to speak out and free himself from the burden of problems. She was not a psychologist by training, she was one by vocation. She knew how to listen and hear. Now, listening and helping this man, she realized how lonely he was. An interesting person was suffocating from some kind of internal hopelessness, from the reluctance of loved ones to meet him halfway. And wanting to help him, feeling sincere sympathy and care, she carefully touched his arm with her hand.

It seemed to him that his heart had stopped. There was not enough air. A cool hand touched his arm and stroked it tenderly. She protected him from his own problems, took upon herself part of the heavy burden of loneliness and emptiness. He buried his head in these little hands and began to kiss them. Once upon a time it seemed to him that kissing a woman’s hand was... last century. But now, inhaling the smell of her perfume, he touched her fingers with his lips and experienced previously unknown feelings. Tenderness for this woman overwhelmed him.

She stopped him kindly but forcefully. One movement, one look and he was ready to obey, although it just seemed to him that he could defeat the whole world.

She didn’t want to change the plane of their relationship, but she already understood that this meeting would continue. He did not demand intimacy, did not want momentary pleasure, he needed a great feeling, which he experienced himself. She understood that one evening is not a reason for serious relationship. And at the same time, she felt that her life was changing, something important, strong had entered into her, what is called in a short word"Love".

They called each other every day. He was out of breath, couldn’t understand how he had lived before her. A little woman, so weak, sweet, vulnerable, won his heart, conquered her power, and now he could not live “like everyone else.” It took more than a stamp in the passport to hold it now. And the wife realized that her husband was moving away from her, leaving, withdrawing into some kind of world of his own. She didn't grieve. Another man appeared in her life, and therefore she agreed to the divorce without hesitation.

He picked her up and spun her around. The happy laughter of this beloved and loving woman sounded like a bell, like the best music in the world.

Love moves everything on this earth. Without it you cannot breathe, live, create... Without it you can only exist. Exist for a long time, thinking that this is how it’s supposed to be, this is how everyone does it, and this is destined by fate. But man is destined to love! Don't miss your happiness, don't pass by, don't succumb to a cheap fake. Wait and believe that love will not deceive, will come into your life, illuminate it with light and warmth.

Elizabeth Delancey

Destined by fate

Dedicated to Aizen and Ariella and their dear father.

Montana Territory, May 1883.

It was obvious that the place had changed a lot over the past eleven years. The last time Jib was here, Styles looked like a dirty backwater, whose inhabitants wanted nothing more than whiskey and literally did not dry out from drinking. Now, relatively tall silhouettes of buildings rose in the May sun, some of them painted red and blue with gray slate roofs. On the main street of the town there was even a sidewalk with special fences and benches in some places. True, as before, there was a huge puddle in the middle of the street, but there were no stumps or boulders here as before.