“I am not an atheist. I do not know if I can define myself as a pantheist. The problem involved is too vast for our limited minds.” ~Albert Einstein
Back when my first daughter was only 8 years old we lived in an apartment on the first floor of an old building that used to house mill workers. It was built around 1850 and had the big rooms and high ceilings of the time, which let in wonderful light. The first floor flat was horseshoe shaped. You came in from a common hallway to the living room which led to the kitchen which led to the bathroom, which led to bedroom number one which led to bedroom number two. There was an exit door from bedroom number two right back into the common hallway. So, imagine that horseshoe shape, beginning and ending at the hallway.
Being a single mother and sharing custody meant that every Tuesday after school my daughter would go to stay at her Dad’s house. She would come home after school on Wednesday. One Wednesday morning I woke up to find that the middle drawer of my bureau was open and that the stack of clothing in the middle was saturated with water. I mean saturated. There was so much water that it had seeped through the front of the drawer causing the paint to bubble. It had poured down into a pair of shoes I had put below it.
Of course, I looked everywhere for the source of the water. There was nothing on my bureau that could have caused it. There was no leak in the ceiling. It was odorless. This made no sense at all. But, you know how it is, sometimes things happen and you finally just shrug your shoulders and walk away.
The next week, when my daughter was once again at her Dad’s, I awoke on Wednesday morning to find the pillow from my daughter’s bed on the floor next to my bed as if someone had been sleeping there beside me. When I went into her bedroom to check it out I found that her sheets, blankets and bedspread were soaking wet. I removed them and found that the mattress was soaking wet. I had to take it off the bed and put it on its side to dry out. It took almost a week to dry. Again, there was no source for the water.
We lived across the street from my daughter’s school and everyday after school she would play in the schoolyard with her friends before coming home when I called her for supper. During this time, however, she would come home directly from school and stay in her room, playing quietly . Usually she would sit on the floor in the middle of the room with a game or a doll, talking away.
On a Saturday morning I called to my daughter to put her sneakers on because we were going to her grandmother’s house to visit. After a few minutes she came out to the living room and told me she couldn’t find her sneakers. With most children this would be pretty routine, but for my 8 year old it was unusual. Her room was a dissertation on neatness. She didn’t get it from me. Her shoes and sneakers were always lined up neatly against the wall, next to her desk. I searched all over for her sneakers. They were finally found in the wastebasket under her desk.
The next day I was lying on the couch reading a book when my daughter appeared in the doorway. She didn’t speak. I looked up to see that she was surrounded by a swirling silvery mist. It was swirling over her like a very slow tornado, from her feet to the top of her head, closely hugging her body. I yelled her name. No response. I yelled again. No response. I sat up and yelled her name really loud. She shook and was clear. I didn’t want to tell her about these episodes. I never felt that my daughter was in any danger at all, but I thought it was unfair to burden a child with something I couldn’t explain.
Other strange occurrences became normal. The linen shelves between the two bedrooms were saturated with water one morning. A pair of boots was filled with water on another occasion. The driveway where I parked my car was directly in front of my daughter’s bedroom window. When I pulled up after work I would instantly look up to her window because I felt someone staring at me. When I walked into my bedroom to change my clothes I felt the presence of a small girl around the age of two or three years walk into my bedroom from my daughter’s room. I would greet her and talk with her as though I was her mother. I tried to give her love. I never felt afraid through this whole experience. I felt concern and sympathy for the child. It pained me to feel this lonely little spirit.
I discussed what was happening with friends and family. Someone suggested that I call a psychic who worked with hauntings and the like. When I reached her she said she didn’t do that anymore, but asked me about the haunting. I told her all about it. She decided she would come because it is so rare for spirits to manifest through water.
The psychic, Susan, came in the evening. We went into my daughter’s bedroom and sat at a small table, she ran her tape recorder. She started to tell me about the little girl. I had shared none of my thoughts or feelings about the age or gender of the spirit. She said the child was about 2-3 years old. The child had died of an illness which left her with kidney failure and that was why there was so much water. She had no control over her functions. She did not know that she had died as she had been in a state of delirium at the time of her death. She chose to stay in the house. Susan told me that the little girl saw the home as it was when she was alive and that when I was in my daughter’s bedroom, sitting in bed reading her a story, to this little one I was the mother energy and I was reading her a story. Susan told me that spirits don’t like to be left alone, which explained why she had hidden my daughter’s sneakers. It explained why when my daughter was not there the little spirit brought her pillow into my room to sleep beside me. It explained why my daughter came home every day after school and went to her room. Somehow the spirit was communicating with her. I asked Susan how the pillow had come to be on the floor alongside my bed, did it float through the air? She said she didn’t know, that it may have just dematerialized in my daughter’s room and rematerialized in my room.
I asked Susan what we could do to help. She told me to have all my friends and family pray to the spirit guides to come and take the child into the light. It was time for her to leave this plane and move on. It was time for her to be bathed in the light of pure unconditional love. We all prayed for her and the visits stopped. I felt that she had moved on. We stayed in that apartment for a few more years and never had any indication that she was still present with us. I did hear later that the previous tenants had a little girl who was always getting in trouble for wetting the bed and she swore that she didn’t do it.
Why did this little girl remain behind after her body died? Why didn’t she ascend as most do? I don’t know. At the time of her presence in my life I considered myself an atheist. She reminded me that there was more to us than the Lillipution life we live here on this tiny planet. It renewed my spiritual journey. From there I read Life After Life by Raymond Moody, M.D., Many Mansions, the biography of Edgar Cayce, Autobiography of a Yogi, the life of Paramahansa Yogananda and started a life long study of religions and spirituality. It led me to the Path of Enlightenment. It was the greatest gift I ever recieved because it enriched my life far beyond any measure I had anticipated. I have that little girl to thank for the life I have today. Mind boggling, isn’t it, how your life can be changed in an instant, in the most unusual and unforeseen circumstances?
Never question how the universe will bring you what you need to attain the purpose of your life. I could never have imagined the universe would send me a ghost child to teach me a lesson. But, it did.
Please share your ghost story with us in the comment section.
Some surprising affirmations:
- I am open to all experiences which raise my consciousness.
- I have faith that I will be given what I need to succeed.
- I do not discount experiences out of hand. I keep an open mind.
- I am grateful for all of my experiences as they have helped me learn valuable lessons.
- Everything happens for a reason and I am grateful for that.
- Thank you for everything.
Imagine that a small ghost child lived in your house. How would you respond to them? What would you like to tell them? What would you like to ask them?