Angelic Communication Saved Her Life

Carla

Hello.  I would like to share this so that others who may doubt might believe that Angels are real and that when we ask for guidance and even protection they will assist.

I Lost my partner of fifteen years some four years ago in a very sudden and tragic death.  Her spirit was released from her body while I held her in my arms. 

About six month ago I was deep into meditation laying flat in my bed using headphones and a guided meditation.  I had lit an incense and also a candle.  I placed the lit candle in the window sill.  Two feet above the candle hung a bamboo shade.  I measured the distance mentally and decided it was safe and just fine.  

About fifteen minutes into meditation I hear a faint knocking.  I assumed my son must be in the house and was banging around and ignored it not wanting to break my empty mindset and sense of peace.  It was so very faint as if I heard some far of echo.  I noticed the noise again , a louder knocking and then louder still so that I was completely distracted and opened my eyes.  The room was full of smoke.  I could not see anything.  I was a bit out of it and dazed but was aware enough to rush to the bedroom window , pull the now burning blind down from the window and throw it out the door.  My back door thankfully is just outside my bedroom and down a short hall.  Once that was out I opened windows, and so forth to air out the room.  I noticed I was shaking now.  I waited a while for all the smoke to clear and stared at the smouldering window blind now laying out in my back yard.  

Finally I decided to just lay down and do some breathing, calming excercises as I had become quite unnerved by all this.  I began to wonder what the knocking was, where it had come from.  My son who was out visiting friends had not returned home and I was indeed there alone.  Furthermore, the knocking appeared to be coming from the window just behind the bed.  It was more than a knock by the time I awakened to it , it was a LOUD BANGING.. bang, bang, bang, bang!!   I lay in my bed watching the ceiling fan go round and round.  A single bulb swung from it.  Suddenly the light began to flicker while the fan stopped.  The fan switch had not been touched.  The fan proceeded to die down to a stop and the light went completely out.  I was laying in the dark with only the moon shining in the window to provide a slight shadow of light.  As I lay in silence by now KNOWING that 'someone' had woke me up , had continued to create loud noise in order to get my full attention and refused to let me alone until I took notice.  Someone... saved my life.   As I’m thinking these thoughts I am begin to hear another noise, a creaking of sorts near the ceiling fan and then suddenly a crash.  My registered this almost immediately and then from the mirror on the wall a photo of my passed on partner that was stuck along the frame of it, floated to the floor landing just next to a now shattered lightbulb that apparently unscrewed itself!  I lay back in bed thanking my partner for her protection and love even from the 'other side'. 

I am very blessed. 

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Carla Curlee

Gypsy Psychic Services

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Signs from Above

My name is Cheryl and I must tell you of an experience, one among many.  One Sunday morning a friend I had invited to church, came by my house to walk to church with Me, only I had no intentions of going.  I told Him I'd meet Him there. He said He'd wait.  So we were walking myself, I was J-walking and exactly in my path at the end of my foot lay a receipt with a dollar bill sticking out.  I picked it up, looked around to see who may have dropped it.  But when I opened the receipt; $21.00!!!  We walked on, I with my hands raised, eyes closed and praising G-d.   And SUDDENLY the brakes were put on in the Spirit. We both stopped and immediately I said, "Where did that come from?"  While my friend was thinking the same.  A squirrel APPEARED OUT OF....NOWHERE LITERALLY.   I knew then praise opens etherial doors and windows of heaven.

From Cheryl

FRED THE HOUSE GHOST

* Submitted by Carol Kastelic


I spent the weekend down at my friend Deanna’s place in Belgrave, Victoria early last year, and vowed that I’d never visit her again ... unless she moved house.


She was quite unfazed about the noise in the night and the visitor to my room when we spoke of it after my first night’s stay.  In fact, she pretty much scolded me for being a ‘scaredy-cat’ and told me there was ‘nothing to be afraid of’.


Nothing to be afraid of!!  Rubbish!!


I’d headed off to bed at about 10pm, and within the first ten minutes or so I’d heard footsteps walking towards my bedroom door.  Assuming it was Deanna I’d called out for her to come in, but there was silence.  A moment later the footsteps walked right up to my bed, but I couldn’t see anyone or anything and the door hadn’t opened or closed.  I felt distinctly that someone (or something) was standing right next to where I was lying.  A shiver went right through me and I clicked on the bedside lamp to double-click that I was alone in the room.   There was no one and nothing to be seen.  But still I had an eerie feeling of being watched.


I dreaded to believe that I’d just been hearing things because I was so worn out from my long trip down from Dubbo, so I snapped off the light and snuggled down under the warm doona ready to drift off to sleep.
Next thing I knew I felt something (or someone) sit on the bed near my feet.  I distinctly felt pressure on the bed, and just froze on the spot.  I didn’t want to look  -  I didn’t want to know about it.  I just felt scared stiff  -  beyond scared  -  totally petrified.


I wanted to scream but nothing would come out.  Not only that, but somehow I was too scared to even make a sound, let along scream.  I held my breath instead for what seemed like forever.  Then all of a sudden the pressure released at the foot of the bed and whatever it was got up and walked back out the door  -  or rather  - through the door.


I just lay there frozen on the spot, too scared to move, and by then, too scared to sleep.  I lay awake for what seemed like hours.  


Eventually I summoned the courage to get up out of bed to get myself a drink and go to the loo  -  which I quickly regretted once out in the dark hallway.  I fumbled around searching for the light switch on the wall, but instead something/someone grabbed my hand.  I just about jumped out of my skin and screamed like a banshee.  The light flicked on at the other end of the hallway as Deanna didn’t bat an eyelid.  She told me not to worry about it  - it was just ‘Fred’.  


Fred!??  Yep, Fred  -  her resident ghost!


Apparently he’d been around for years;  and according to her, her next door neighbour knew all about it and had told her that he’d been hanging around for at least 20 years or so.


That didn’t help me at all  -  not one little bit!


We enjoyed our day together, Deanna and I doing touristy things in the Dandenong Ranges, visiting little boutique shops and enjoying a delightful picnic lunch amongst the gum trees and fern trees in the lush green setting of Sherbrook Forest.  At the end of the day though, I was loathe to return to Deanna’s home.  I’d be leaving the following day, but didn’t really look forward spending another night in that house.


Pulling up in the driveway, Deanna sensed my trepidation and assured me yet again that there was nothing to be afraid of.  I didn’t like the idea of another encounter with ‘Fred’, Deanna’s resident ghost, and I hoped the night would pass uneventfully.


All seemed to be going well, and by the time we’d finished dinner I’d relaxed.  I’d almost forgotten about ‘Fred’ as we drank some wine and laughed about old times.


A little tipsy by bedtime I was happy to go off the bed, looking forward to a good night’s sleep.  All seemed to be going to plan and I drifted off without a care in the world.


At around 2am though, I was woken by the sound of someone walking around the room and rifling through my open suitcase.  In my sleepy stupor I assumed it was Deanna looking for something.


I asked her what she was looking for, but got no reply.  All was silent.  I was certain someone was in my room, but couldn’t see anything or anyone.  Then I remembered about ‘Fred’ and felt a sense of dread from head to toe.  I just lay there not wanting to move an inch.


After what seemed like an age, I turned the bedside lamp on.  There was nothing and no one to be seen, but I still felt as though someone was in the room with me.  Just as the thought went through my mind the light beside me snapped off and all was dark again.  The rummaging sound started up again, but rather than becoming scared I actually got quite angry.  I threw back the doona, grabbed my robe and stomped off towards Dee’s room.  There was no way I’d be sleeping in that room.  I’d had enough.


I made Deanna scoot over and got into bed beside her.  She roused briefly and chuckled when I told her that ‘Fred’ had paid me another visit.  I heard faint footsteps walking down the hallway towards Deanna’s room, but decided that I wouldn’t let it bother me this time.  I hunkered down under the warm blankets and promptly fell back to sleep.


If anything else happened that night, I certainly wasn’t aware of it.


The following morning Deanna admitted to me that I’d been sleeping in ‘Fred’s old bedroom.  Great.


I was so glad to leave her house that day, and like I said earlier, I won’t be going back there again as much as I love my friend Deanna.  I just hope she decides to move house soon, or she can come and visit with me instead.

*  Submitted by Carol Kastelic

AUNT KATHLEEN’S OLD CLOCK

* By Noelene Green

My Aunt Kathleen had the most hideous antique clock that sat pride of place in the middle of her mantel piece above the old gas heater in her loungeroom.


I’d always joked with her about how ugly it was and she’d rib me in return, promising that she’d leave it to me in her will.


As it turned out, Aunt Kathleen hadn’t been joking ...


I was backpacking through Europe and had stopped off in London for a week or so when I got the email from my mum, telling me that my favourite aunty had died in her sleep the night before.  The funeral was to be held the following Wednesday at 3.00 o’clock, so I made arrangements to be home in Australia in time.  My flight from Heathrow airport was due to leave at 3.00 the following afternoon.
I felt sad that Aunt Kathleen had passed over, but I also felt a sense of relief as I knew that she’d been suffering for some months prior to her death.


Her funeral was a bit of a circus as it turned out, but that was just the way she would have liked it.  Amongst the tears there was much laughter as we all spoke of Aunt Kath’s antics and adventures over the years.


The following Friday after her funeral, the family gathered at Aunt Kathleen’s home to sort through her belongings.  We all knew that meticulously organized Aunt Kath had put labels on all of her personal possessions, denoting who got what.


As it turned out, Aunt Kathleen’s ghastly antique clock had been left to lucky me.


As I gingerly packed the horrid old clock in my car it chimed 3 times, signalling that it was 3 o’clock on the dot.  Aunt Kath had always been a stickler about having the clock set at precisely the correct time.


Once home I placed Aunt Kath’s clock on a side-table in my loungeroom.  I would have preferred to hide it at the back of a wardrobe somewhere, or better still, not in my home at all, but out of love and respect for Aunt Kathleen I put it out on display.  


The clock didn’t make a sound again until 3.00 o’clock in the morning.  I heard it from my bedroom because it seemed to be so loud that it had woken me up.  I thought it odd that the dreadful old clock only seemed to chime at 3.00 o’clock day and night, but never at any other time.  I decided not to question it though and promptly fell back to sleep.


Two weeks after Aunt Kathleen’s funeral my mother dropped by for lunch, bearing old photos and assorted knick-knacks belonging to Aunt Kathleen.  The hours flew by as we chatted away catching up on who was doing what within the family.  At 3.00 o’clock Aunt Kathleen’s hideous old clock chimed 3 times.


Both Mum and I turned to look at the clock sitting boldly on the table.   We both commented on how ugly it was and chuckled about Aunt Kath bequeathing it to me as she’d always threatened to.  I told Mum that it only ever chimed at 3.00 o’clock day and night, but at no other time.


Mum looked at me with a surprised look on her face and reminded me that number 3 had been Aunt Kathleen’s favourite number.  It was the time she’d been born (on the 3rd of March), it was the time she’d chosen to marry, the time she’d diligently taken her daily afternoon nap, the time of her funeral, and also the time she had died.


A shiver ran through me when she’d told me the last piece of information.  I hadn’t known that part.  I knew Aunt Kathleen had passed in her sleep, but I hadn’t realized that 3.00 o’clock had been the exact time that she’d died.


I again turned to stare at the old clock, intrigued yet comforted in a strange kind of way.


I’ve kept the old clock on display in my loungeroom ever since, and it doesn’t seem so ugly to me anymore.  It still only chimes 3 times at 3.00 o’clock day and night.  Hearing it makes me think of my Aunt Kathleen, and I like to think that it is her, saying hello from beyond.

* True Story contributed by Noelene Green

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ANGEL, PSYCHIC & TAROT READINGS Online with Joanne

My Aunty Had a Ghost in her House

My aunty had a ghost in her house that used to bang on the walls and you could hear it walking around at night.  It was pretty creepy and me and my sister never liked staying at her place when we were kids.  It never bothered her though and she said that she felt that the ghost was care-taking the house when she was out, because she never got broken into or anything like that, and she lived in a pretty rough area of town.  She believed it was the ghost of the old lady that had lived in the house before her.



When me and my sister used to stay there on the holidays sometimes we used to hear footsteps in our room at night and sometimes in the kitchen you could hear the drawers open and close and sometimes the cupboards would open and close on their own.

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Contributed by Terri Cason

THE HAUNTED GENERAL STORE

We’d lived in Melbourne all of my life, but at the age of 17 my parents decided to have a ‘Tree Change’ and we moved to a tiny country town in North East Victoria.  After six months or so I got myself a job at the local General Store; a very old heritage listed building.



On my first day of work the owners Peter and Michelle left me to do the lunch orders out in the back kitchen.  As I got to work cooking up burgers and chips, I got the distinct feeling that I wasn’t alone.  I felt eyes on me and looked around.  But no one was there and I was alone.  I shrugged off the feeling and got back to work.  After 10 minutes or so I felt someone nudge me in the upper arm.  It was so hard that it kind of shoved me sideways a bit.  Again, no one was in the old kitchen with me.


The next day I was serving at the front counter and heard the bell at the door tinkle.  I looked over by no one had gone in or out.  I shook off the creepy feeling and continued working, thinking to myself that I must have imagined it.


Later that same week I was stacking shelves while Michelle served customers.  Once the lunch rush was over Michelle asked me if I’d seen or heard anything ‘strange’ since I’d started work there.  I told her about being shoved in the kitchen on my first day, and hearing the bell at the door chime for no reason.  Michelle smiled and nodded while I spoke.  She then went on the tell me that since they’d bought the place five years earlier both she and Peter had had many different experiences, all of the ghostly kind.


For example, sometimes the shop’s door handle would turn and the door would open, but no one would come in.  The bell at the door would ring by itself.  Old-fashioned floral perfume could sometimes be smelled at different spots in the shop and at different times of the day.  Everyone who’d worked there had felt a presence in the kitchen, with many being touched, nudged or shoved.  Footsteps could be heard walking over the creaky floorboards when no customers were in the shop.  Things would be moved around the shop from day to day, including stock on shelves, cooking supplies and even the small tables and chairs moved around in the ‘cafe’ section of the shop.  Voices could be heard coming from the back store room, but on one would be in there.  The lights would sometimes flicker and go dim then bright again at different times of the day and for no apparent reason.


Over the next two years that I worked at the General Store I experienced all of those things  –  and more.  I never really felt scared or in any danger at any time  -  but it certainly was creepy and I’ll never forget it.


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Story submitted by Karly Stevens

ELLA’S DAILY VISITOR

By Anne-Marie Weller

Some years ago now I was working as a carer for an elderly lady named Ella.  Ella was a lady in her early 80’s, and was sprightly, cheery and bright.  She was a delight to work for.  I’d visit her twice a week to help out with domestic duties and to ensure that she was eating regularly and doing well health-wise.


Upon my second visit, I was washing up some dishes in the kitchen when I heard Ella greeting someone in her lounge-room.  I hadn’t heard either the front or back doors open, so wondered who she was speaking to.  I made my way into the room where Ella was knitting up squares to sew together as blankets for children in third-world countries.  She sat serenely with a soft smile on her lips.  I asked her who she’d been speaking to and with a cheeky grin she said, “Gerry ... my husband.  He drops in everyday to visit with me.”  I quickly glanced around the room but there was no one to be seen.  I was a little baffled so just smiled at Ella and went back to washing the dishes.


Once back at the sink I heard Ella say softly, “she can’t see you remember ...”  She then let out a low chuckle, and I simply let it slide and went on to dry and stack the dishes away.  I thought no more of it and left soon after.


The following Tuesday Ella greeted me at the door with a smile and let me in.  After chatting for 5 minutes or so I went off to do my chores.  A little later I walked past the loungeroom doorway to hang out Ella’s washing and heard and saw her merrily chatting away to the recliner next to her.  I paused briefly as she continued talking to the chair, then felt a little self-conscious so scurried off outside.  I wondered if maybe Ella was going a little senile and felt sorry for her.


Over the following weeks every time I went to Ella’s I’d catch her talking to no one ... or at least I thought it was no one.  I ended up speaking to the supervisor at the agency I worked for.  Surprisingly to me, she knew all about it and went on to tell me that the ‘Gerry’ Ella was always talking to was her husband who’d passed away over 10 years ago.  Ella had been having conversations with him ever since and all of her carers over the years had witnessed it.  Well at least that explained it ... sort of.


Back at Ella’s the following week I walked into the loungeroom and sat down next to her, taking a breather between chores.  Suddenly I heard a man’s voice clear as a bell, right next to my ear, saying “Hi Anne-Marie”.  I just about jumped out of my skin and felt goose-bumps spread up my arms and down my back.  I looked around wildly but no one else was in the room but me and Ella.  Ella laughed out loud and lay her hand on my knee.  “Don’t fret dear,” she said “it’s just Gerry saying hello.”  She smiled sweetly as though there was nothing at all odd about a voice coming out of nowhere.  I didn’t know where to look, what to say or what to do.  I quickly got up and went back to my chores, feeling more than a little uncomfortable and jittery for the rest of the afternoon, and it kept playing on my mind the rest of the night and beyond.


I didn’t really want to work for Ella after that day, eventhough she was a lovely lady.  I went there out of a sense of obligation, but I was never comfortable in her house after that.  I tried to put it out of my mind whenever I went there, but it always creeped me out every time I heard her chatting away to ‘Gerry’.  I tried to stay out of the loungeroon as much as possible and just tried to ignore it as best I could.


One afternoon my husband came home to tell me that he got the promotion he’d been after.  It would mean that we had to move to another town, but after working at Ella’s over the months I was ready for a change.


I informed the agency and Ella the following day and put in my resignation.  Ella said she’d be sad to see me go, but understood and was pleased about my husband’s promotion.  The following Tuesday would be my final day working at Ella’s place.


I arrived early to make sure that everything was in order and to spend a little time with Ella before leaving for good.  10 minutes or so after greeting Ella at the door I was walking down the hallway, washing basket in hand, and saw a man walk past making his way into the loungeroom.  He went and sat down right next to Ella on the recliner beside her.  She looked at him and smiled, then leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.  “Hello Gerry’ she said.


I just stood there staring as the man slowly vanished right in front of my eyes although  Ella continued chatting away to him.  I dropped the washing basket on the spot and the next thing I knew I was in my car, backing out the driveway as quickly as I could.


I never went back to Ella’s house and we moved away three days later.  I haven’t had any experiences like that since, but I’ve never forgotten it.


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