Ghosts Among Us - James Van Praagh [4]
THE LADY IN PINK
A year after I made my first communion, I was at Sunday Mass with my class. We all sat in the front pews of the church. Back then, before we could receive communion, we had to fast. Toward the middle of Mass, before the Lord’s Prayer, I felt an intense pain in my stomach. I thought it was my poor empty belly crying out for food. The pain was so intense that I had to lie on the floor between the seat and the kneeler. The voice of the priest faded into the background, and I could feel the back of my neck getting wet with sweat. I wished someone could help me, but I was too afraid of being reprimanded by the nuns for acting weird, so I just stayed put. After a while, I was in my own little world. Suddenly I looked up, and a beautiful lady in a pink dress, with red hair, blue eyes, and the softest skin I had ever seen, bent over me. I looked into her eyes and heard her clearly through the din of the Mass.
Don’t worry about what others think, James. You should never feel embarrassed to be who you are. As I help you today, one day you will help others in the same way. You will bring others peace. Love yourself, and all will be well.
I awakened from my trancelike state and managed to maneuver myself so that I could lean against the pew. By then, the priest was reciting the closing prayers. I was able to sit upright and look around. The lady in pink had vanished. As I peeked over at the other children, I was aware that no one wanted to make eye contact with me. What could they be thinking? I wondered. I kept my mouth shut because I was still a little dazed and confused about the lady in pink. It wasn’t until many years later that I understood her message. It was one of many messages I had received by then from ghosts about bringing peace, hope, and love to others.
A GHOSTLY RESCUE
Because I was a shy, sensitive young man, I didn’t have many friends. I wasn’t into sports, nor was I the class clown. I was friendly enough, but not to everyone, and especially not to the school’s troublemakers. These kids just seemed so ridiculous to me. They were always vying for attention from anyone and everyone.
When I was in fifth grade, Mike Marks was the class bully. Mike always sat in the back of the room so that he could make disturbing noises to ruin the class’s concentration. He had a quick temper and a mean streak that was difficult to control. Our history teacher, Mr. Reed, was usually a calm man. He was articulate and smart and always seemed to make history come alive. One day Mike drove Mr. Reed to his boiling point. Mr. Reed called Mike to the front of the class and hit him over and over with his pointer. It was hard to watch Mike get a whipping, even if he deserved one. Then I saw the ghost. Like many of my visions, this ghost had a luminous light around him. It was a tall male figure, with brown hair and dark, swarthy features. He stood to the right of Mike and sadly watched Mike getting a licking. At one point, the ghost brought his hands up to his face to shield the horrible scene from his eyes. I realized that the ghost was Mike’s father, and he wanted to tell Mike how sorry he was. I wished I could have relayed the message to Mike, but at the time that was impossible. I felt sorry for Mike. I had always thought that the poor guy was probably beaten by his father and that was why he acted the way he did. Perhaps his outbursts were a cry for help. Outside of the classroom, I saw Mike only at Cub Scout meetings. He was just as loud and obnoxious there as he was in school.
One day on my way home from school, Mike was behind me, walking in the same direction. He caught up with