Submitted by: Patricia M.
Submitted: December, 2004.
Submitted by: Patricia M.
Submitted: December, 2004.
Submitted by: Adrienne C.
Submitted: January, 2005.
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| A True Ghost Story Submitted by: Patricia M. Submitted: December, 2004. |
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| Back in 2002, I had the fortune, by God's grace, to find my birth family. I obtained the obituary for my birth mother and found out she had a sister and brother still living in Maine. When I contacted my aunt, she told me all about my mother and put me in touch with her daughter Karen, my cousin. Well, Karen and I sent numerous emails and she told me her mother was dying of emphesema, so if I wanted to to see her mother I should come soon. The opportunity presented itself at Easter and I took the plane to Maine. My two cousins Barbara and Karen met me. I enjoyed meeting my aunt and my cousins, they are very nice and gracious people. I stayed one week. During that time, I had a chance to go over to my cousin Barbara's house also. Barbara told me her house was haunted...she explained that when she and her four girls moved in that they would see a young man staring in the kitchen window at the front of the house. When Barbara would go inside to confront him he would be gone. Later, they would hear noises in the kitchen area. One time the girls were home with their friends, in their bedroom, and the ghost/ young man started hitting the kitchen wall and told them to "BE QUIET". This scared the girls and they insisted on going to the kitchen to confront this guy but Barbara's two girls said no, you won't find anyone there. The visiting girls did go out to the kitchen and there was no one there. Karen my cousin, got some sage to bless the house with. Two times the sage went missing from where she had put it. Finally, the third time Karen said bless the house as soon as you get there and go from top to bottom. So Barbara did. While I was sitting in the kitchen talking to Barbara I noticed a black strip of cloth floating across the back window of the door. I drew Barbara's attention to it but by then it was gone. I went outside to see if it was floating or something. I thought maybe it was tied to the back of the house, a board, or anything. I thought perhaps it might be a bird as well. But nothing was there. The story behind the house is that the grandson shot himself in the livingroom area. They found him a couple of days later. Many years earlier, the house itself had burned down with the father/mother/grandmother and six children. This grandson was the only one that was saved out of the whole family. Later the house was cleared with only the foundation left and they rebuilt the house (by the other grandparents). My only guess is that having heard the story of being saved from the house, when the young man was about 20 he requested from his grandmother to live there. He drank quite a bit and being depressed and all he shot himself. He felt that it wasn't fair that only he had survived the fire. I still do not know why I saw the black strip of cloth outside the back window, but my aunt died only a month later...Well, that's my story and it's true. | ||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Untitled Submitted by: Patricia M. Submitted: December, 2004. |
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| I was reading some of your reader's ghost stories and I was reminded of something that happened last year...(you have to understand, I have always been interested in ghosts and hauntings-God only knows why-so I have some knowledge of different things that most people don't. I am never shocked when someone tells me their house is haunted. I don't take it as a joke. Although, most people would. I can always tell if they are pulling my leg or really being truthful.) Well, on with the story...I am a bus driver for our school system. One of my girls Kayla was telling me about how this little girl ghost was coming to her every night and talking to her and keeping her awake. I asked Kayla how long this had been going on. She said since they moved into their house about four years ago. When her mother and father moved in they remodeled the house to their liking. Well, the story went that the little girl died of pneumonia during a thunderstorm in the night...the last time he had been awakened was when they were building the railroad and the men had to move her gravesite (she was buried in their backyard with a wooden marker over her grave). She told Kayla that all she wanted was her doll and to tell her mother good-bye. Kayla told me they found the doll in the attic when they moved in and it was still there. I told Kayla to ask the little girl did she know who Jesus was--she came back and told me yes. I then told her Kayla to bury the doll on top of the little girls grave and to tell her that her mother was waiting for her with Jesus. Kayla did this and the little girl never came back. Footnote: I knew Kayla was telling the truth and I was worried about her being woken up at all hours of the night by this lonely little ghost girl. She would turn Kayla's television and radio on and watch it. She told Kayla all about her brother and mother who lived in the house and about her father who was in the army in the war. I believe the little girl was afraid for Kayla, thinking she would get sick too and I truly believe she was also very lonely. The other children on the bus thought Kayla was making the story up. I knew she was not. I wanted to help this little ghost if I could and Kayla too. My friends who are psychic also helped me with telling Kayla what to do to help this little girl's ghost find peace. | ||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Roses Submitted by: Adrienne C. Submitted: January, 2005. |
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| This happened some 4 or 5 years ago when I was a night nurse at a very nice nursing home. Let me say here that I am not Roman Catholic, having been raised a Protestant. During this time the nursing home had a lady who was dying of pancreatic cancer, a terrible painful cancer, even with the use of medications. One Saturday-Sunday night (this was the 11pm to 7am shift ) I stopped by this lady's room to see if she needed some PRN (extra medication) for the pain. She was sitting in her chair with the overbed table saying her rosary, she looked at me and said "no", and then she said "it's Sunday isn't it?". | ||||||||||||||||||||||
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