Your True Tales
March 2007 - Page 4
Son Sees Spirits
by Buffy
First of all, I'm not psychic, nor have I ever claimed to be. That being said, ever since I was little, I could always tell when a spirit was close by, what kind of spirit (good or bad) and what kind of mood they were in. I could never see them, though. In my old house, we had at least four of them that would come and go. There were two of them that were really bad. One of them was in he back pantry on the first floor. That one, I was and still am, very afraid of. To me, it feels as though it wants to do harm to me and everyone that enters that area. The other one was in my room. That one would come and go. Every once in a while, it would get really cold. We didn't have air conditioning back in the day, yet even on the hottest of days, it was always cold by the windows of that room. The other two were ok; one of them was between my mom and brother's rooms, and would only be near the entrance of them. The other was a wandering spirit, who, I think, could possibly be my father. Every time that one is around, I get a great sense of warmth and love, and often, another of my family members have been there when I can sense that one, and they have told me that they can smell my father's soap. He would always smell of Irish Spring and clay, the two smells combined on my father's hands to a warm and gentle scent that all of us have come to know as my father's own personal scent.
I now have a five year old, who has the same gift as me, with one noticeable difference: he can sometimes see them. I moved back home when I was 21 because I could no longer afford to live on my own, because I was pregnant. A couple of years ago, I took my son on a "nature walk" in the woods by our house. It was later in the day, and he had become restless sitting inside the house. Recently, we have found out that we are part Native American, so my family, myself included were, and still are, doing research about that. That being said, we lived in a well-known Indian area in Illinois.
We were walking along and talking about different things, like how different creatures leave different marks in the dirt, and I was showing him a deer print. He looked up, and said "hi," to who I thought was the ranger. When I looked up, there was no one there. My son was four at the time. It was Fall. I looked around and saw no one. I turned to him and asked who he had said hi to. He turned to me and smiled and said, "That man. He walked up ahead of us to show us more prints." Confused, I looked around, yet saw no one.
In walking in the woods, alone with a four year old, I carried a knife on my belt. It is a small one with a deer-bone handle that I had gotten from my brother for my 22nd birthday. I stood up and grabbed my son's hand. I didn't hear anyone come up to us, nor had I heard anyone leave, so, with a sense of foreboding, we walked ahead. I had my hand on my knife, just in case.
A few feet ahead, my son stopped, and said, "Look at that one." We stopped and I bent over to see what it was. It appeared to be a barefoot man's footprint. There was only one, and it was pointed were we were standing before. I looked around, and still didn't see anyone. So we kept walking. At this point it was starting to get dark and we were heading back toward the entrance to the woods when all this happened. Still glancing around, and trying to walk with a four year old, I saw something out of the corner of my eye move. I stopped, and told my son to be very quite. As we knelt there, two deer were not 10 feet from us, just standing there watching us. We sat there for about five minutes, and I told him that it was time for us to go because it was getting darker.
As we walked, one of the deer followed right along side of us. My son began talking to it, asking its name, and what it was doing out at night, and telling it his name and saying this was his momma, and regular things like that. I thought it was really weird for the deer not to be afraid of us.
Well, later that night, as I was getting him ready for bed, he said that the Indian man was nice. I looked at him and asked, "What Indian man?" He said the one in the woods, the one named "Plays with deer." I told him that the deer that was following us wasn't an Indian man. He told me that the man that was walking with the deer was. I never saw him, but my son did. And I had felt a presence out there, but I thought it was just that he had said saw someone. It was really weird. And that's not the first time that has happened with him. There have been recent things as well... things that would make anyone's hair on the back of their neck stand up!
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