The story I'm about to tell is the truth and something I'll never forget as long as I live.
Me, my husband and two children moved into a farmhouse in the country. One night after coming home from work, my husband and I were sitting on the bed playing cards. It was late and the kids were asleep. I looked up to notice that a small child had passed by our door in yellow feeted pj's. Well, it was summer and my first reaction was to ask my husband why in the hell he'd dressed our 4 year old in such heavy clothing when it was so hot out. He thought I was crazy and took me to prove that our child was only dressed in his underwear. I looked to see that our daughter was dressed in a red gown. Thinking that I had to have imagined the whole thing, we returned to bed. Shortly after my husband fell fast asleep. I smoked a cigarette, turned off the tv and rolled over to go to sleep. At the same time I heard a child crying, saying "Mommy". I looked at the doorway and once again the small child in feeted pj's was standing there. Only this time I saw her face and heard her cries. I was scared to death and woke my husband, as I did she disappeared. In the coming days I saw her quite often in dreams.... I thought. During the the next couple of days my husband woke me from sleep as I was kneeling down, appearing to be comforting someone. I'd dreamed the little girl was crying and I was trying to help her, I wrote it off to sleepwalking. The next night I dreamed that she asked to crawl in bed with us. Not telling my husband anything about this dream and getting ready for work that morning he came into the bathroom, put his arms around me and said " I just couldn't seem to get close to you last night, it was like something was between us." From that moment on I have believed that the little girl was really there the nights I thought I was just dreaming.
Further investigation lead to finding out that a father and child had died in the house in the early 1800's of scarlet fever. Two miles from our farm house were their graves. They had the headstones that had their pictures on them. They were old, black and white pictures but I recognized her in an instant. Her picture had fallen from the headstone. I went home,got some glue and reattached her picture. I never was scared of the child except for the first night I saw her. She was scared and wanting to be comforted, I only hope that I helped her to not feel so alone.
