A gift or superstitions?

 

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This situation is still puzzling me since the first occurrence age twelve .  Since that time there has been many incidents where I have  had to question this so-called ability to see things before they occurred. As a child the bible was drummed into me, I read my bible every single day, I had no choice,  after a while I would just read it myself.  I loved the God that was in the bible.  I loved the images that were on book covers, and all the paintings of God.  I grew up thinking that was what he looked like.  I do recall I use to think how lucky the people in the bible were, because they got to see the kind gentle God.  I didn’t know at that time that he was a spirit, as written in the bible.  I know mummy had made me attend the alter all the time, every single Sunday to get prayers.  I still didn’t understand. I grew up thinking God was a ghost. (Or Duppy in Jamaica). But, a friendly one.

The incidents below, still left me puzzled.  Was this a gift? or was it superstitions?, Holy Spirit guide? or just coincidence?.  I will list a few of these incidents and you decide.

My first encounter was age 12, I was two miles from mummy’s house, she had sent me to collect something for her, I was with those friends I mentioned before in Kensal Rise, (previous post). I was minding my own business,  when suddenly my heart skipped a beat.  I became very anxious, nothing particular had happen that day, but I felt uncomfortable.  I felt the need to go home urgently.  I told my friends goodbye, they didn’t understand why I had to leave, because I had no phone, but I remember saying. “I have to go now, I think something has happened”.  I specifically recall literally running to the bus stop.  I don’t know why I did this, but I needed to get home.

After waiting a while, the bus wasn’t coming so I decided to run home.  All the time my anxiety was getting worse.  It still felt like something bad had happened,  I didn’t know what I expected to see, but I just knew I needed to get home.  I ran all the way, when I reached, I couldn’t wait for the lift, it was stuck on another floor.  I ran down the hallway and through the double doors and up the four flights of stairs.  As I came out the door, I stopped to catch my breath just before I knocked my door.  At that point the lift door opened and  a man came out.   He was dressed as a delivery man, but wearing different clothing to our own delivery man.

He was about to knock my mummy’s door, when I said.  “I’ll take it”. He handed me a strange-looking card, with another letter.

Telegram“, he said.

I said thank you. I had no idea what a telegram was.  I looked at both letters that he handed to me.  One was in a sealed envelope. The other was just a card with no envelope, with  the word Telegram, like he said.  He turned and went back in the lift, that was still available.

I read it.

Call  stop. Jamaica stop. Mum dead stop.

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I was surprised, my beloved grandmother had died,  at the point, it’s like memories started to flow, of the time I would plait her hair, which was long and silky and right down to her back.  She was a Jamaican coolie,  meaning she was half indian and half Jamaican.  I recall how I use to go under her long skirt and hide behind her legs when anyone came to the house. I felt my heart skipped a beat;  but strangely since I had left Jamaica, I remember at that very point, that I had never heard from her again.  I also remembered that I never thought of her much. I guess the amount of beatings I endured, had knocked all knowledge from me.  I had been beaten all my life, as life was so stressful, there were no time to think happy thoughts.  I do recall I wasn’t sad, I felt empty.  I knew I had to give this card to mummy, I   took the telegram inside the house but something told me not give it to her.

and so I didn’t.

Instead…

I went and looked for her address book,  don’t even ask why, as I don’t know, I knew mummy would have in there all the telephone numbers for her close friends at her church.  I called them one by one.  I informed them of the telegram. I told them I still had it.  I was told not to give her until they arrived.

Within the hour, mummy’s friends arrived one by one.  At first she  was pleased to see her church brethren, and another, by the time they all arrived, (five in all). I heard mummy say in a worried voice.

” a wah rang?” (what is wrong?)

At that point I took out the telegram and handed it to her, my mummy screamed and landed on the floor, I noticed all the sisters and brothers of the church surrounded her.

I left the house quietly, I was no longer needed. I remember feeling that I did the right thing, but somehow I had felt no  emotions.

A few weeks later I still didn’t recall mummy telling me thanks, but I recall her asking me “how did I know?.

“I don’t know” I said.

the message from the gypsy lady entered my mind.. “Was this the curse the gypsy was  talking about?

Second incident.   Around a few months later, I was sitting in the park one afternoon, by myself just thinking, on the roundabout. My mummy was at work, or so I thought.   I felt that same anxious feeling, so  Something, again told me “Get up” As I spun around slowly.  I felt a presence, something in my mind again  said.  “Leave”, as I turned to walk away.  There, just standing there was mummy. She had stopped and was staring at me.  I recall, it fell spooky, as she said nothing, she just looked. When I arrived home, you can guess the rest.

These  visions were becoming regular and I couldn’t understand why.   I did noticed that it occurred the same year my grandmother died.  My grandmother was a christian and a very religious woman. Was it possible she transferred the so-called “gift”?  I decided to observe it, but there was no one to tell. These visions continued throughout my life with different severity.

Another incident, I had started a sociology course in the evening.  When I started  the course we were to introduce ourselves.  There was a black girl who sat beside me.  I asked her what her name was and she said Jane.  At the time I found it strange, as I had never heard a black girl called Jane.  We greeted each other, and got on with the lecture.

Each week  Jane would attend classes and we would sit together, we exchanged work ideas but nothing else, apart from our names.  However, for the next two weeks she did not attend.  I also left for a week as my son was unwell.  On my return to college.  I was informed that Jane had not been seen now for three weeks.  I recall the teacher saying. “Oh you should know, as you speak to Jane”

No I only know her name, I replied.  “probably her mum died”, I said.

Everyone stopped and looked at me,  why would you say that they asked.  I actually had no idea.

A week later Jane returned, her mum had died…

What’s your opinion, gift or superstition.  There would be many visions after that, and this will fall together in the end.

 

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5 Responses to A gift or superstitions?

  1. barney says:

    definitely a gift

    Liked by 1 person

  2. T says:

    I say its a gift!

    Liked by 1 person

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