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Cheryl, Georgia, USA
August 1999

This story takes place in the spring of 1967. As I recall, it had been raining solid for like three days when it happened. It was late in the evening, just before dark. My dad was at work, and my mom, my two sisters, my three brothers and I were home alone. One of my sisters who was fourteen at the time, had scoliosis which is a disease which causes the spine to grow crooked, therefore causing the person who has it to be unable to run very fast or to walk straight. I don't recall what we were all doing at the time, but it seems as if some of us kids were telling ghost stories,(our favorite pastime during rainstorms). Mom, I think, was on the closed in back porch washing clothes or something. Normal, everyday things. Suddenly, there was a loud crashing-like noise and our front door was kicked open by someone unknown to this day. Mom shouted at us kids to run out the back door and up to my grandparents' house who lived next door. As I said, it'd been raining for several days and our backyard was like one big mud puddle. Anyway, we did as we were told. When we reached my grandparents' back porch, which was screened in, we were covered from head to toe in mud. None of us had any shoes on. We were a mess. My grandmother, seeing the mess we were in and before asking any questions, hurried to get towels for us to dry off and clean up with. She handed each of us a towel, shaking her head and commenting on how messy we were. But when she went to hand my fourteen year old sister, the one with the scoliosis, a towel, she stopped dead still and stared at her. Us other kids, wondering what was wrong, turned to see why my grandmother was looking so strangely at my sister. It only took a second for us to see why. For my sister, though trembling and scared, was barely damp. There was no mud on her at all, not even on the soles of her feet. How had she managed to get to my grandparents' house without getting muddy and wringing wet? The only explanation there could possibly be is this: It is said that everyone has a guardian angel who looks after them and keeps them safe until it is time for them to leave this world. We believe that when my sister's guardian angel saw what was happening, She or He, whichever it is, knowing that my sister wouldn't be able to run fast enough to keep up with the rest of us, picked my sister up and carried her to my grandparents' house, therefore causing her to be virtually untouched by the rain and mud.

We never found out who'd kicked the door open or why, for whoever it was never went into the house. They'd simply kicked the door open then turned around and ran across the road, down an embankment, then across another road and into the woods. The next morning, there was a large, muddy footprint on our front door, and faint, but unmistakable footprints leading off the front porch and onto the yard, then across the road and down the embankment on the other side. My sister, whom this story is about, died in 1974. She was twenty-four years old...

Thank you for reading,

Cheryl, Georgia, USA
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