A True Story

By Angie Christie

This story happened in 1993. I had just had an operation which left me quite weak. At the same time, my mother Olive had just come out of the hospital after an operation on her eyes. I went down to Oxfordshire, England to stay for awhile.

That day was particularly hot and my mother and myself started dozing in the chair. Suddenly, Mum woke and asked me if I wanted a cup of tea. I replied in the affirmative and she went into the kitchen. Suddenly, I heard a very insistent voice in my head telling me to get down to the cemetery. The voice told me to go immediately. I was going on another day to visit Dad's grave. I must explain that Dad died of cancer in 1978.

The message was really strong, so I told Mum not to make me a cup. When she heard why, she said, "But, you are going tomorrow." I told her I was very sorry but it sounded important that I went.

By the time I arrived with some flowers, I was very sore and hot. I arrived at Dad's grave and realized that, in my haste, I had forgotten to bring a bottle of water. The tap in the cemetery was quite a ways away. Suddenly, a white van with two young men stopped behind me. The older man got out of the van with a huge carrier with "WATER" written on it. I went up to him and asked if he would mind me filling my Dad's vase with some water from his carrier. He replied that of course I could have some water and even provided me with a bottle to carry it.  "Curiouser and curiouser", I thought. "Spirit have helped me here."

When the van disappeared, I sat down on the grass and said in my mind, "Okay, why have you made me come today?" I looked around me but there was nobody else near me. I decided to stay ten minutes as I felt very hot, telling Spirit if they did not tell me why I had to come down at such short notice, I would go back to Mum.

Glancing behind me again, I realized a man had arrived without me hearing him. He had on a raincoat, was very tall, and was leaning over a gravestone. Something made me get up and walk back down the path. All the time I was thinking, "Why didn't I hear his bicycle on the gravel path?" I noticed it propped up against a tree.

The man, I noticed, was walking toward me and, at the bicycle, we met. I greeted him and he said hello to me too. I asked him if that was his wife in the grave and he said it was. She had died two years previously and he told me he came each day to visit her grave. I explained that my Dad was also here and that I had come to put flowers on his grave. I told him I could not come every day because I did not live in Didcot Town.

He asked me where I came from and when I replied that I lived in Suffolk (about 147 miles away), he said, "Oh, my dear, you don't live near Sudbury by any chance?"

I was so taken aback and I told him that I lived about one mile away. He asked me if I knew a village called Belchamp Otten. I told him that I had farmer friends there. I then decided to tell him of my strange voice asking me to come that afternoon. He told me he did not come in the afternoons but in the mornings, but this particular day, he could not make the morning. I explained that I was a Spiritualist Medium and how I came to be there.

Then, I saw in my psychic eye, two ladies walking with us. One was called Jean, I told him. They were not sisters, but very close all the same in life. He told me that, yes, I was correct, Jean was his wife's cousin from Belchamp Otten. They were both from that village in Suffolk near Sudbury. His wife then explained about how she was before she passed and he took it from me. But, I realized, his wife was not the reason Spirit had got us to meet that hot day.

Arriving at the gate, chattering all the way, finding out that we had mutual friends, etc., I said to Spirit, "If you don't hurry up and tell me what to say, he will be gone."

Just as he was preparing to cycle off, I could not stop myself from blurting out, "By the way, Dick sends his love." He stared at me and tears started rolling down his cheeks. "Who is Dick?" I asked him. He then told me that when his beloved wife passed, his family told him to not sit at home moping, but to find somebody who was lonely and keep them company. He told me he was introduced to Dick and they used to meet up and play cards, and chat about their wartime activities. He also told me that, unbeknown to him, Dick was suffering from cancer and never told his friend.

"Two weeks ago," he said, "Dick died and I never got the chance to say goodbye."

We parted company and I thanked Spirit. I then realized why they wanted me there. Dick wanted to tell his old friend goodbye by sending his love. I never saw the elderly gentleman again.

God works in the most mysterious ways and, it's true, he does. I think they must be reunited again now and still chatting about the past. I pray so.