Wendy Womack, MA, USA
This story I don't remember happening to me, but my mother says it did and tells it as if she were talking about the news that day - with such matter of factness and no doubt whatsoever.
When I was around 6 years old my family and I lived in Florida. My Great Grandfather had died three years earlier and one night I woke up my mother to tell her I had to use the bathroom. She told me that I was a big girl and to just go by myself. I refused and insisted that she come with me to the bathroom. She finally gave in and went with me. As she was tucking me back into bed she felt something on the floor next to my bed. She turned on the light and there lying straight along side my bed was my Great Grandfather's Spanish American War uniform. My mother asked me how that got there and I said I didn't know. She picked it up and put it back in the back of the hall closet where it had been. The next morning she told my father and he thought maybe I had been sleep walking and put it there myself. So they asked me to take it out of the closet but I couldn't even reach the hanger. Also, this uniform was all wool, had a lot of medals and fitted a man that had been 6'2". There was no way I could have lifted that. My mother's explanation is that my Great Grandfather put his uniform next to my bed and then told me to go and get my mother so that she would see it and know he was there. I wish I could remember that night, but even though I don't remember when I do talk or think about it I always feel calm and safe.
There are many, many more stories regarding my Great Grandfather and his presence in our family. We know he is always watching over us. We have moved 13 times in the last 23 years and with each move he would let us know that he was there with some little incident like the one I have just described. It's a good feeling to know there is someone watching over and protecting us.