visitations
The Mysterious Man In The Back Yard
I remember coming out the back door, with a Kellogg’s Pop-Tart in one hand and a seven ounces bottle of 7Up in the other. It was July 13th. It was dad’s birthday and I had to be about nine years old at the time.
The family spent the day at my grandparents’ house to celebrate. More and more guests were showing up, until all the aunts, uncles and cousins were crowding together in the very small back yard.
I then noticed this mysterious man who I had never seen before. He was wearing a trench coat and he had a long beard. I remember thinking that he looked funny to me. I asked my mother who the man was, but when she turned around he was gone.
Later that night, I saw the same apparition again. It happened twice, and every time I saw him he was looking at me in a strange way. My grandparents became curious and asked me about this man I kept seeing. I described him and they seemed shocked.
My grandmother went to get a photo album and showed me an old picture. She asked me if that was the man I had seen and I immediately recognized him. My grandfather then told me that it was his uncle and that he died by falling off a cliff. Foul play was suspected, but nobody knew who might have pushed him or caused his accident.
Later that week, we took our bikes to cycle around a nearby hill. My older brother Mike was riding his bicycle down the hill and he suddenly hit a loose rock really hard. It blew out his front tire and was going very fast, but he was not seriously injured.
The Old Man And The Christmas Bells
With Christmas upon us I have been hearing church bells every Sunday in recent weeks, just like in my younger years. Going back to those years in my mind, I can remember being very young when my mother was stopped by a man who told her he was the new pastor at this church far from our house. He looked younger than my parents and he asked my mother if we had a church that we go to. She told him we did not and the man gave us an invitation to attend his church.
Since this church was reasonably close to where I grew up, it was fun to walk there at first, but after a while it seemed like forever. But my mother made a promise to us kids that after church we could get a soda pop or an ice cream cone if we were good. Mom knew how to persuade us kids to go to church without a fuss.
When I first looked at the church is seemed big, but it looked very different from the Catholic church across the street. We opened the doors and were greeted by two old ladies who handed out the programs for the service. They also told me that I would meet my mother down here in the same place after Sunday school.
Next I met my Sunday school teacher. His name was Rusty and since I was the ‘new kid on the block’, he introduced me to all the other children. Since I didn’t know any of them, I didn’t know what to think. Then Rusty started with the lesson and once again it seemed like forever for Sunday school to be over.
Later, I met mom downstairs and as I was walking down the hall a older man greeted me. I greeted him in return, not thinking much of it. After we had been seated and the pastor opened with prayer, I remember looking around and noticing that the old man was not sitting in the same pews anymore. He seemed to have left.