A Window on the Past.....
I have a good friend who,
enjoying the fruits of a somewhat more remunerative career than I, maintains
a house in France as well as several in the United Kingdom....
Having spent two or three
uneventful days and nights at the farmouse, Paul awoke and rubbed his
eyes open to find himself looking at a totally unfamiliar vista. Instead
of the expected stripped pine, minimalist Ikea furnishings and chrome
down-lighters, my friend was surrounded by what he could only later describe
as a scene from medieval France: rich tapestries hung at the walls: dark,
bare floorboards were strewn with hay and rushes, while gone was the velux
double glazing, to be replaced by small, wooden-shuttered window-slits.
Gareth's memoire of Army life...
In March of 1990 I was on
exercise with my unit at an old World War One camp in Crowborough, Sussex
( Think that's the correct spelling) . The camp itself had been an embarkation
camp early on in the War and later a convalescent camp for the wounded,
as its rural location was perfect for hiding the soldiers away from the
Anyway, I was shaving in
the washroom one morning by myself.... As I lifted my face up to the mirror,
my eyes were taken away from the foam on my face to a figure standing
behind me to my right. I found myself staring face to face with a man
about six feet tall, with a ginger moustache and wearing a World War One
uniform. I remember focusing on his eyes and they were the saddest eyes
I have ever seen: an almost deep penetrating pity radiated from them.
As I say, I don't faze easily with the spirit world, but this one was
different in a way that I cannot explain. My initial thought was that
his eyes were sad because he had left this camp never to return, and that
somehow he had remained here after death. All this must have gone on for
about thirty seconds before I put my head back down to the basin and then
looked up again. The man had gone and I was left standing alone in the
old washroom with a very definite chill down my spine.
live in the South east now, Iam originally from just outside Glasgow.
When I was about 8 or 9 my parents decided that we should look for a new
home. They took us to look at a large cottage on the edge of an estate,
which had once been a gatekeepers house and was now on the open market.
Recently, after a split with my husband, I went to have my cards read and the lady who did them made a point of asking me if i realized that I was extremely spiritual. I relayed this story to her and she told me that I had indeed seen a group of lost souls. This was not the only incident like this that happened to me as a child. The psychic told me that one of my many guardian angels is a sister of mercy and I do believe that I have seen her in my room, again around the same age. Hope you find this tale of some interest.....
This happened in my old
house.... I had a very small room and was always a bit cramped, so everything
was squashed together. Because of that my bed was less than a metre
from the window.
As it got closer, I saw that it was the shadow of a man on a cross. He slowly came closer to my bed, never stopping. At this point I snapped! Screaming in terror, I kicked into the air and ran from the room. I told my parents about the shadow but (like a lot of people) they dismissed it as a dream. I had to venture into the room again that night....this time it was completely different: there were two men fighting each other. They were just shadows and I could not see their faces. One slumped onto the floor and they both somehow dissolved . I just lay there staring for hours. I didn't get any sleep that night....