From as far back as I can remember I've had paranormal experiences. I also realized at an early age, that most of time keeping those experiences to myself was the best way to go. When I was four years old, I related one of these experiences to my grandma. She was immediately offended and stated that I needed God and that I was 'pure evil'. So for the most part while I was growing up, I ignored, shut out or pretended these things didn't happen.
Sharing my stories is never easy. It takes a lot out of me. My hands sweat and my insides shake. Not because I'm worried no one will believe me or that I will be judged, but because I know voicing these things make them stronger.
My first story is about a little blue eyed boy. In October (2016) it will be 20 years since I was visited by this child.
The day started out as any other weekday. I woke up early, woke my 4 kids up, fixed them breakfast and sent them to school. Usually my husband works nights but this week he was on days. I was super excited to have the house to myself, to just be alone for once. We had moved into the house less than a month before so I had been working myself nearly to death trying to get things organized. I was more than ready for a ME day.
I quickly straightened up the house, making beds, vacuuming and starting the laundry. I then went into the living room to do what I had been wanting to do for weeks. Sew. I set my sewing machine up on a table. I laid the fabric on the floor and pinned my pattern to the top of it. As I started to cut the pieces out I heard a giggle.
I looked up just in time to see a beautiful little boy standing on the top step of my living room. My first thought was that he had came inside through the other front door. He was dirty, filthy in fact. Dirt smudges on his cheeks, all over his blue overalls. His overalls were only strapped on one side, the other strap hanging loosely by his side. His shirt was a faded yellow/white check. He had the most vivid astonishingly blue eyes I had ever seen. He looked to be about 18 months old, maybe 2 years. He had blonde hair sticking up all over the place and it too had dirt in it. He was solid, there was no reason for me to believe he was a ghost. I laughingly asked, "Where did you come from?"
He giggled again. I looked away for a few seconds while getting up off the floor. When I looked up again, he was gone. But I could still hear his giggles... Trailing off.
I walked through the house calling for him. I checked the other doors of the house. The one in the playroom, we refer to as 'the other front door'. It was locked. I looked in closets and under beds all the time calling out to him. After what seemed to be a very long time, I started checking windows to make sure there wasn't an open one. I never found the little blue eyed boy that day and I have not seen him since. But I will always remember exactly what he looked like.
I'm not sure if he's still here. Sometimes when the musical rocking horse in my grand daughters' playroom randomly starts playing, I imagine it's him just having a good time, playing as other children do.