My story begins in Boise, Idaho, in the summer of 1960 when I was six years old.
My aunt moved to Boise from Greenville, New York that summer and the was no spare bedroom for her so my parents moved the bunk beds my younger sister and I shared from our bedroom to an odd shaped hall that was full of huge windows all the way around the side of the room that we slept in. I slept on the top bunk.
I enjoyed being able to look out the windows and see the moon and the stars at night. I would stare at them until I fell asleep. I'm not sure how many night went by before something very strange began to happen to me.
Late at night after everyone was in bed asleep, I would be awakened by a feeling of someone gently lifting me up off of my bed. Only it was toward the ceiling. I could touch it with my hands. I did touch it. Many times. I could feel the heat of the ceiling with my hands and also on my face.
I would feel weightless and the blanket, or sometimes just the top sheet, would be over me. I would put my hand underneath me and feel that I was raised up off the bed. I would look around at the tops of the windows over my feet and see the stars. I know I was awake!
Then all of a sudden I would begin to lower back down onto my bed again. It felt weird! I touched the bed as lightly as possible. I would lay there wondering what happened. What did that to me?
A few days went by and the same thing was happening all over again. I sort of enjoyed it. I don't know how many times that happened to me before it stopped. I grew to really like it. Though now I'm happy it stopped.
I've ever met anyone who could explain why that kept happening to me as a young child. So I just say, I never knew why.