I have never told anyone this story before, but now, as I invite you into my world, it seems only right that I disclose this encounter. I have worked as a psychic medium for almost thirty years – and had the ability to see things for all of my life – but now I have decided to take the next step and share with you what I believe and what I have experienced. Given that I was a child who possessed psychic gifts, and given that some of my own children and grandchildren have also been blessed, I have never doubted the many tales I have heard or cases I have witnessed in which other children make contact with those they love, whether on this plane or on the other side.
I can only tell you what I have observed. It is up to you to make your own judgement about the journey on which I will take you in the pages of this book. I believe that every child – and therefore, every one of us – has the ability to communicate with spirit, and, when they pass, to retain contact with those they love who have been left behind. These whispers from another world can be heard if only we open our minds and souls to hearing them. The stories I will share with you are full of love and hope, yet the angels who act as messengers of tenderness and care are often dismissed, for in the world in which we live we are all too quick to reject the beauty in our lives.
At a time when so many of us are searching for meaning, I would encourage everyone to look at the natural and loving messages which surround us. They can add richness to our daily lives and relationships, giving us guidance and hope. We should cherish those who bring us such messages and listen to whispers from the angels who exist in all of our lives.
Chapter 1
The stories that need to be told
I believe that all children possess psychic abilities, but that many are ignored, dismissed or even punished for voicing thoughts and feelings relating to the spirit world. I’m not suggesting for one moment that there are millions of children all over the world seeing the Angel of Death before they go to sleep at night, but I am suggesting there is an innate ability in most little ones to which we pay very little attention. This lack of attention prevents us from recognising something that we perhaps no longer understand but which could be of tremendous value to us if we simply opened our hearts and minds.
Many people reading this will be parents and I’d like you to pause for a moment and ask yourself some questions.
Has your child ever had an imaginary friend whom he or she is able to describe in so much detail that it sometimes stops you in your tracks?
Has your child ever been inconsolably afraid or inexplicably happy in a certain room or place for no apparent reason?
Have you ever visited somewhere your child has never been before only to find them unsettled or emotional or terrified, or experiencing some other inexplicable emotion?
Have they ever seemed sure that you have been to a place before when you absolutely know that this is their first visit? Does that seem odd to them? Do they take a while to believe you? There could be a reason for it, a reason as clear as day – they don’t believe you, because this place seems so familiar that they can’t believe it is new to them. And perhaps it isn’t.
Have you heard your child laughing or talking when you, the sensible adult, know that there is no one else around? Imagination, you scoff again.
What about when your son or daughter tells you something about a long-gone relative, perhaps a beloved grandparent of yours that they couldn’t possibly know? Do you dismiss that as a comment you must have made to them about that person without remembering it?
What if they point to someone in a photograph, someone who died long before they were born, and tell you something uncannily accurate about that person? Imagination again?
How many reasons – how many excuses – can you keep providing before you have to face up to what is staring us all in the face?
Let’s consider something radical.
Maybe children aren’t making it all up.
Perhaps they do see, hear, smell and sense spirits in a way that makes grown-ups uncomfortable, but which seems perfectly natural to them. Whether you believe that or not, I would like to take the opportunity within this book to tell you about some of my experiences with children.
I can fully understand why some people are sceptical. When I saw the Angel of Death from my bedroom window, I would have loved it if someone had managed to explain it away. I wanted to be ‘normal’, I wanted to fit in. Perhaps there was a defiance in me that prevented me from accepting any so-called ‘rational’ explanations (and I now feel blessed that this was the case), but the terror I felt in those early years was not something I would wish on anyone.
The vast majority of children I have encountered have only happy experiences of the spirit world, whether they are the ones receiving or sending the messages, and I hope this will offer comfort to grown-ups who have lost touch with those abilities in themselves. Opening yourself up (through recognising your own talents or those of the children around you) will not invite terrible things into your life. The experiences I have had are, by far, ones of hope and love – and surely only a fool would reject having more of those blessings in their lives.
The journey I will take you on in this book will be one in which I share the many encounters I have had throughout the years, encounters which have been both beautiful and touching. To get to this stage of my life, I have had to face many challenges, but all of them have been for a reason. During my childhood there were times when I had no control over what was happening, over which spirits were coming through. I wasn’t seeking these experiences, and I wasn’t revelling in them, but they happened anyway. From the age of seven, I knew, every time I looked in the mirror, that I was looking at someone who was here for a purpose. This was terrifying to me. I was only a little girl and I had no idea what this knowledge meant. Why was I thinking that way when I should have been concerned with nothing more complex than playing with other children? The feelings were so strong and they came at such a young age that they scared me. On reflection, as an adult I know that it was my intuition guiding me to the place I am now, but I don’t want anyone to think that I was so egotistical I believed I was more ‘special’ than anyone else. I think everyone has a purpose, but we don’t all recognise it.
By the age of eight or nine, it was obvious that school simply didn’t grab my attention. I spent a lot of time daydreaming, looking out of windows, gazing into space. I had my own inner visions and heard an inner voice as naturally as other children played hopscotch. I dreamed of the day when I would finally be happy and feel ‘normal’ – whatever that was. I wanted to fit in. That would be my paradise. I longed for a time when I would no longer feel like a stray piece of jigsaw in the wrong box. My inner voice told me that everything would be all right and that things would work out, but in reality I was in a world that didn’t seem to have a place for me.
I had friends, but often in the middle of playing with them I would finish what they had been about to say. On one occasion I was with a friend who had a dog. She began to talk, and I immediately interrupted to say that I knew her dog had died the night before. She was surprised, and wondered how I knew – but I just knew things. I was always so highly strung and nervous that every little thing worried me. Looking back as an adult, I can see that this was because I felt too much, I sensed too much around me, and I couldn’t put any of it into words.
I always knew when things weren’t going well between Mum and Dad. I didn’t need to overhear arguments to realise that this was the case. I would lie in bed listening and, if I felt things weren’t right, I would go downstairs and sit near by as I felt that my presence would calm things down. They never told me to go back to bed, so maybe they realised I was helping.
When I was seventeen, I met Davy, my husband-to-be. I loved him so much and knew that he loved me. He was my twin flame, my true connection, and I was very happy, but at the same time something inside me knew it would never last and that we would part. We were so much in love that this seemed a crazy thought, but it haunted me every