In the late 1960s, when I was little, my mother stayed at home to take care of the kids and the house, while my father worked. We lived in Waukesha, Wisconsin in a pretty quiet neighborhood. My father was a truck driver and would be gone for great lengths at a time.
My mother would bake cakes and pastries for a local bakery in town to help make ends meet. The house always smelled amazing because of her constant baking.
As Dad has now passed on, my mother has now come to live with me and my family. We have a great relationship and she's still sharp as a tack. She's been telling me about stories from my childhood and I remember most, but not all.
She is definitely not the type to make up tall tales, but this was a mystery that still haunts her. As you can imagine, our house was quite a popular hangout in the summers because of all the goodies coming out of the kitchen. I had two older sisters and a brother, and with all of our friends running in and out, it was very difficult to keep track of us.
It was typical for all of us to play outside and have some kids running in for drinks or a snack. One day, a little girl who seemed to be my age at the time (7-8 years old) started coming over. She would come into the kitchen and watch my mother bake. Sometimes, she would sit at the kitchen table to eat a cookie or whatever.
When the rest of us would come inside, she would leave with us to play again. However, the odd thing was that she never spoke a word. My mother said she had light brown hair and always wore it in a ponytail. She basically looked like any other kid that we would play with.
The really spooky thing is that one evening when all of us kids were in bed and the house was tightly locked up, my mother went into the kitchen and saw the little girl sitting as she would at the table. She asked why she had not gone home yet, but the the girl didn't answer. Feeling sorry for the poor thing, my mother asked her if she needed a place to stay or some food. The girl then got up, smiled and started walking down the hallway toward the bedrooms.
When my mother went to see if she which bedroom the girl was going to, she could not find her at all. She looked all over the house and checked all the doors but the little girl was nowhere to be found.
The thing is, I do not remember this girl at all. She wasn't my friend and we've asked my sisters and brother if they remember her but they don't. She would always wear an older, faded brown dress, as if her family didn't have much money for clothing. Whatever she was, I think she was attracted to my mother's kindness. It was also easy to hide amongst the other children. The girl did not come back again after that night. We hope that the incident or visit to our home made her happy and put her at peace.