A Tale of Two Worlds Part 2: If They Want to Talk to You - They Will Find a Way

It was a thirty minute ride to where we were going that evening, and it was dark. There's something about being in an unfamiliar place that appeals to me. I think it's because my mind is seeing things for the first time, so the process of relating to everything I see as what I expect it to be is diminished, and I am more open, curious, and receptive--more present with the moment.

The little girl stayed in the forefront of my mind, making her presence known to me until we arrived at our destination. When we got to the home of the family that I was about to meet, my attention moved away from the little girl and shifted to seeing where it was that we were. As we pulled into the driveway, the first thing I noticed about the house was that it seemed to glow with warmth and welcome. There was a feeling of "home", and it felt like it had been a home for a very long time.

We went inside and Dita introduced me to a woman about my age, and her two daughters who were in their early thirties. The mom, Jeannie, informed me that there was a teenage brother and sister upstairs who were choosing not to participate.

We walked into the living room, moved an arm chair for me to sit in, and positioned it so that I could face the three of them as they sat on an L-shaped couch. I felt very comfortable. They were lovely, and I could sense their curiosity, and their nervousness. The richness of this loving family and their history was oozing from the walls, so I took a moment to be still and feel all the stories that those walls embraced.

I looked before me, ready to see whoever it was that was going to show up, and guess who was there? The little girl with the doll. She stood firmly planted like a tree just staring at me. I asked them if someone had lost a little girl recently. The answer was, "No". I was beginning to feel like I was being held hostage by this child, and I knew that no one else was going to break through her determination, because she had an urgency about her, and her need to be recognized. I honored that.

I explained how she had shown up as soon as I had gotten into the car to come over there, and that until we figured out who she was nothing else was going to happen, and that they themselves must know her, or know someone who knows her, or she wouldn't be there.

After a about five minutes, one of the daughters said, "Oh my. One of my daughter's classmates died two weeks ago. She wasn't feeling well, and her mom came and got her from school, took her home and put her down for a nap, and at five o'clock, she went in to check on her and found her dead. That little girl was eight-years old." We had solved the mystery. It was her.

The little girl's energy shifted immediately, and I felt enormous waves of love coming from her---and she wanted that love to be delivered straight to her mom in the form of a verbal message--she wanted her mom to be told that she had come to them and told them that she was okay. So, I described the dress she was wearing, and her doll, so that her mom would know it was her when she got the message.

The daughter's started to freak out because they didn't actually know the little girl's mom, and "how would they tell her something like that"? They were afraid that they would scare her. They thought it would be too weird for them and to weird for her, for them to deliver "a message like that".

Fortunately, after a few minutes of talking about it, one of them finally promised to do it.

As soon as she made that promise, the little girl was gone.

But, the little girl is not really who this story is about...