At a recent event, where I was delivering messages from spirit to an audience of several hundred who were anxiously watching me and waiting to hear from a friend or loved one in the afterlife, I had the impression of two peas in a pod. This mental image suddenly morphed into two fetuses…and then one melted away, leaving an embryo in the womb.
I concentrated for a moment, whispered a quick blessing to the deceased child, and then said, “I feel the presence of a child who died in the womb. He was one of the twins, and I sense that his surviving brother is here in the audience. Can you Does anyone take this?”
A deep silence filled the air. Then a hesitant hand went up from a man sitting in the tenth row. “There are three sets of twins in my family,” he said quietly. “I was supposed to be part of the room, but my brother didn’t make it.”
“Thank you,” I said, both to the man and to the approaching spirit. I gave the man some personal details about his life, which he understood, then finished with, “Your brother tells me that he walks with you all the time. And when it’s time for you to go home, and that won’t be for quite a while, I’ll you’ll find on the other side.”
I took a deep breath to clear it, then asked the spirit to come again. Suddenly, I felt a weight of sadness on my shoulders and a sharp pain in my chest. I looked at the people and talked about the impressions I was now having.
“A man is telling me about a gunshot wound,” I told him. “He is telling me that his wife is in the audience. She left behind a child, no, I’m sorry, they are correcting me. The child has not been born yet. He is going to be a child.”
I described the man, and a woman raised her hand. “That’s my husband,” she said, fighting back tears. “He was killed in a mugging last month.” She later confirmed that an amniocentesis had revealed that the child was a boy.
“He is telling me that he will be present at the birth of your son,” I told him. “And she will continue to watch over the two of you from the spirit world.”
Thank you, the woman articulated as she wiped her eyes. I took another breath to center myself, then felt the next spiritual presence. I had perhaps the most satisfying message I delivered that day. They were the words of a boy who had died when he was eight years old. Being a father, I have no idea what it would be like to lose a child, and those kinds of messages always leave my heart aching.
I described the boy to the audience, and the feeling I was getting from how he had died. “He wants his parents to know that he’s okay now,” I told him. “He’s sitting on the ground playing with a little red fire truck. He says it’s his favorite toy.”
The parents acknowledged my words with friendly smiles and nods. Later, they approached me to tell me that one day, a firefighter had given the boy a special ride on an engine, and his favorite toy was, in fact, a bright red fire truck. “Actually,” said the father, “it’s on the dresser in his room.”
What made my day was when the father said that before this afternoon he had not believed in the afterlife. “Thank you,” he said. And as the couple walked away, I thanked the spirit for allowing me to speak those healing words.