Your True
Tales
November 2003 –
Page
39
The Widow's Ghost
by Brenda S.
In the summer that I turned 11, my parents rented a large Victorian cottage. It was my favorite childhood home and I still have a warm feeling about that lovely place. The house was the family home of the old gentleman that rented the place to my parents. After his father died, his mother turned the house into a duplex by adding some doors and tearing down a wall. She lived in one side and rented the other side to another elderly widow, so we had two complete kitchens and the entire home could be closed off by shutting a few doors. My parents closed off one of the French doors leading into the living room and put a old sofa in front of it and put a TV in the room for my sister and me this became our "TV room."
One evening, my sister and I had just turned on the TV and sat in our regular spots on the sofa to enjoy a movie – Viva Las Vegas with Elvis and Ann Margaret – a favorite of ours. I always sat on the end of the sofa near the door that led into the dining room. From that seat, I had a clear view of the dining table and the large window in the dining room. I had regularly seen a shadow moving in front of the door on the dining room side, like someone had just walked by and I would just catch a glimpse of the heel of a boot or shoe the first few times it happened.
On this evening, I again saw something moving out of the corner of my eye and turned my head to look. There stood a woman. She had her dark hair pulled up on the top of her head in a bun. She was wearing a dark dress and held her hands cupped in front of her. She was just standing in the doorway looking at us. Then she seemed to notice me watching her. At first, she looked shocked, then her face relaxed and she smiled at me – one of the warmest, kindest smiles I've ever seen. It was like receiving a hug from someone that loves you!
I smiled back at her, then turned my attention back to the TV where Elvis was just starting to sing a song. That's when it hit me: the lady that smiled so sweetly was not only a stranger, but was transparent! I could see the dining room table and the window right through her. It reminded me of seeing your reflection in the glass of darkened window. I say "standing," but she really didn't have legs from the top of her thighs down. She seemed to be a swirl of smoke, but I could see her face and upper body clearly. When what I'd seen registered with me, I quickly turned my head to look again... but she was gone.
I didn't tell my parents what I saw that night until years later. Mom told me how my sister would say how a lady in a long dress would pull the blanket up over us at night. I often wonder why my sister, the original "Nervous Nelly," never said a word to me about it. Was the lady that made me feel so warm and fuzzy that night one of the elderly widows?
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