True enough, we are most likely to be skeptical of the unknown. I, however, have had many unexplained experiences myself. This one started 18 years ago not long after my younger sister, Krista's Birth, and continues to this day.
I was two years old at the time. My younger sister Krista had just been born; 11 days after my 2nd birthday. I don't remember this happening, (I was only 2), but my mother is very religious, and would not lie about this. About 3 weeks after my sister was born, my mother was walking down the hallway, past the room where my sister was sleeping. She glanced in the room for a moment, and was startled to find her Father standing over my sister's bassonette. My mothers' father had died 5 years earlier. She was not afraid, she always said that she felt very calm at that moment. She sat in awe for a moment, and my Grandfather, looked up from the baby, at my mother and smiled. Then he vanished.
When my father came home from work that evening, my mother retold the story, to him, and he told her he had a dream, a few weeks before my sister was born. He had dreamt of my mothers' father. In the dream, my grandfather told my father, that the child was to be a girl, and that her name should be Krista. They had named her Krista. My father never told my mother of the dream until now, and my mother couldn't figure out how he came up with that name at the last minute. Well they laughed, agreed that this baby was truly blessed, and they were pleased.
Now, Me being the older sister, never understood why my grandfather came to see Krista and never came to see me. I was going to learn 13 years later. On December 23, 1992, Krista was killed by a drunk driver, while crossing the street. I and a few of my friends were with her. Any one of us could have been killed that day, but she was the only one who was hit. I was in shock. I was 15. The night my sister died, I had a dream. My grandfather came to me and said: "I visited your sister, to see what she looked like, so I would know who to meet, when her time came." I had my most horrible year that year, but I was not alone. My sister came to me every night, told me that she loved me, told me that I was not to be afraid, told me I had to let her go. It was very hard, but If I was the one keeping her here, I had to let her go. So I did. Now, every once and a while, I will dream of her. We will speak, we will "catch up", its almost as if she is still here, in my heart, all the time. She tells me when something bad is going to happen in my family, so I can be prepared, and helps me through it, until I am O.K.. I miss her, but I know, for some reason she was chosen to go before any of us, and her visits have always been ones of love.
I hope this story has not been too sappy for you readers, but it is in sharp contrast to the frightening tales we've read. I only want you to believe that life does continue on after we die, and some of the strongest bonds are made through the spiritual world. I know, I've made one.