Several years ago I was a poster, then moderator for a live stream webcast called 'Spirit Cam'. The site broadcaster, Denis Williams, a man from England is a 'spirit medium'.
Den seemed normal, humble, and had typical English humor, so I, and the many rest came to believe him. He never showed a reason to disbelieve him, and we, the cyber group grew close.
In fact some of us are still cyber friends.
Den's purpose for the site was to teach people, to educate them in spirit matters.
He succeeded. He asked for nothing, he only gave all of himself.
His wife, a straightforward woman with a good sense of humor underwent went a mastectomy during the time the site up and running. Their daughter, as well as their son (both adults) would also post, and appear on the broadcast.
Several of the commenters who became moderators had ongoing, interesting experiences of their own. I entered extremely skeptical, but seeing how much fun the site was I remained.
Eventually, I had to admit to myself that I had, in real life, seen a spirit of a child, an eight year old little girl who was killed when a dumpster fell on her at the dance studio where I took my two young children for ballet classes, crushing her as she, on order by her alcoholic mother was trying to take out the trash.
Back then dumpsters were metal and were designed with off-balance roll bars for loading on the trucks.
Sherice had to pull herself up onto the bar, then open the heavy metal lid to put in the trash.
That day it rolled over onto her, landing on her small chest, crushing it.
She died there a little later after two of the town's worst doctors arrived to the scene.
Before the accident Sherice and her mother lived in a small RV parked in a rental lot outside the dance studio at the beach. She would come into the studio and just watch, or be there quietly. I spoke to her a few times, and once as I walked the dance teacher's new puppy outside, Sherice came along. We played with the puppy, and laughed together.
After Sherice died, I, for some reason, was hesitant to take my son and daughter to class for a couple of weeks.
I finally decided to return, but had a sick dread feeling that I would see that child there.
I had never seen a spirit, or 'ghost' before.
That evening, during the class a display cabinet door fell open. The dance teacher Betsy said 'That's never happened before'.
Her comment filled me with more dread and an absolute certainty there was no way I was going to get my two small children out of there that evening without seeing Sherice.
After class, as I was helping my kids into their coats, I thought we had made it. And then, the always to be expected words from my daughter "Mom, I need to go potty." Naturally.
I think I may have asked her "Can you wait till we get home?'
No, of course not..."Need to pee, Mom."
The restroom was accessible through a door leading down a long, dimly lit hall. I guided both children down the hall, saying nothing, trying not to let my fear show, and at the same time worrying that my fear might cause what I felt was imminent to happen.
We made it into the restroom with nothing unusual noticeable, except my profound expectation, even knowing, that we were not going to make it out of the building without something happening.
As I opened the restroom door to leave, and moved the two little dancers, who seemed unaware of the certainty I was feeling, and, I believe were even chatting to each other, out into the hall...it happened.
The very end of the hall was a few feet to the right of where we stood as we turned to head back to the exit door. I felt compelled to look over to my right, but, though I did not want to, I was unable to resist.
I looked over at the end of the hall, a small dark, unlit alcove, where some extra chairs were stored, and there stood Sherice.
She was encircled by a light, a clear light that created an amber glow around her. I could see the dark alcove beyond that.
Sherice stood smiling, looking directly at me, making eye contact with my fearful, quick glance. I could see her from her knees up.
She was wearing bright new looking blue jeans, and a bright red, new looking tee shirt.
While alive Sherice was always dressed in faded second hand clothes. She had a difficult life.
But, there she was, two weeks after her death looking radiant and new. The light I saw around her seemed to emanate from within her and not from an external light source. There was no external light source. Apart from Sherice, that part of the hall was completely dark.
Sherice had the look of someone who feels great joy to finally be at home.
Her drab dark brown hair was a richer color, and her pale skin was no longer pale.
She looked perfectly natural, and like a person standing there, except only from the knees up.
It was not a frightening event, though, to my current regret, I felt fear.
I silently turned to shuffle my little ones up the hall, and out the door. I never spoke of this to anyone for twenty years expecting no one would believe me, and I wasn't sure I believed it myself. But, it happened.
After spending time with Den and the group on Spirit Cam I came to understand the experience I'd had as something normal, and natural. I learned that many people see these types of things.
I found peace with the gift Sherice had given me by stopping by to let someone know she was well, that she was home.
