This Weeks Story
November 4, 2000
She wanders down an endless hallway
wondering when she might ever get to "go home"
and hoping against hope that our friend can help her,
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from Mark Dorsett
Hailing From: Sleepy Hollow, Illinois
Where it Happened: Local hospital
I am a grown man, but I am weeping at my keyboard. I have been able to sense spirits pretty much my whole life. For the most part, I don't sense them quite the same as the psychics on TV say they do, because most of them seem able to 'see' spirits as clearly as if they were looking right at a living person. With me it is more like a 'feeling', sort of like radar combined with an instant knowing. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I can just sense where and who they are, or were. I have found that if I let my eyes go out of focus and I relax that I can make them out sometimes, but it's fuzzy . . . .
I was visiting my dad in the hospital, and as anyone who can sense spirits will attest a hospital is a busy place. It is full of people who don't always realize they are no longer living.
My dad has been in for a week now, and I am just now getting used to the extra, uh, patients. I was not, however prepared to have the experience I had today. Yesterday my dad was moved from a regular floor to a Transitional Unit on a different floor.
I had gotten used to sensing the same old spirits, all adults and thought it would be more of the same. I was wrong. The wing my dad is in used to house the pediatric department of the hospital before it was remodeled. From the time I got off the elevator on his floor, I felt the spirits of children. I had a difficult time even getting off the elevator but I made it to my dads room and managed to block most of the sensations.
That is until I sensed a little girl in the hallway.
She would be walking from the nurses station back to what was her room. She had such a strong presence that I could 'see' her as if she was alive.
The clear indications I got that she definitely came from my psychic radar was that while she shuffled past the doorway, she had her left arm up like she was pushing an IV stand or something, yet there was nothing there.
She was about 8 years old, very thin peach-fuzz for hair on her head, and wearing a hospital gown. She seemed very tired, and a little sad. It broke my heart. Over the last two days, she walked past about 5 or 6 times, yet always left to right from the nurses station to her room. I had never seen her leave her room and go towards the nurses station -- I had only witnessed her retreat to her room -- and that was the sequence I would ever witness.
Several times I left my dads room only to watch her disappear into her room down the hall.
My mom gave me a tour of my dads ward. At the end of his hallway is a dining area for the patients to eat. As soon as I walked in, I knew that this had been a play area for the children. I felt the presence of so much joy and sadness all at once, I almost broke down into tears.
I didn't say anything to my mom, and I don't think she noticed.
On the way back to my room I saw the little girl and she looked at us and I looked back at her. About 15 minutes before my mom and I were going to leave for the night, I heard the little girl speak clearly to me. I have never had the hair on the back of my neck stand up so fiercely in my life.
"Hello? She said. "E-e-e-xcuse me . . . "
She had a very quiet and typically high child's voice. For half a second I contemplated ignoring her, but I love children so much I could never at least not try to help -- so I turned to her and she was standing right there in the doorway.
"I . . . well, uh, I'm sorry to bother you, Mister, but can you help me? I can't get the nurses attention, and everyone else, well they are ignoring me."
I told her as gently as I possibly could that I didn't think she was going to need the nurses anymore, but she insisted . . .
She told me, "But I am supposed to be going home tomorrow and I was wondering when the doctor would be in so I could go home!" ... Her eyes pleaded with me.
I asked why she thought that she'd be going home and she told me that she heard the doctor tell her parents that they had done what they could, and that she could go home. I didn't know what else to do except tell her that I would see what I could do for her, but that she would need to be patient. She smiled and turned to walk towards her room . . . as I had witnessed her do so many times before.
I went back into my dads room and felt like dragging my mom out of the hospital. As we were leaving the hospital only one thought came to my mind. There is nothing sadder than the death of a child. I spent most of the night trying to come up with some way to help this little girl. I went back to the hospital with no idea what I was going to do if I saw her again, but I knew that I wanted to help.
I was in my dad's room visiting with him for about 15 or 20 minutes when once again I felt her presence in the hall.
I excused myself from my dad and went into the hallway. When she saw me her eyes lit up.
"I've been waiting for you," she said. "I didn't think you were going to come back, either."
I told her that I meant it when I said I wanted to try and help her. One of the nurses aids kept going up and down the hallway and I didn't want her to think I was talking to myself so I asked the little girl if she could walk to the end of the hallway with me. She gave me kind of a frustrated look as she said, "I'm not that tired."
I honestly didn't know if there were any rules or anything that would prevent her from going into the dining room (formerly the playroom). I walked slowly with her down the hall until we got into the room at the end of the hall. The lights were off, and the blinds were open letting the sun stream in. I couldn't believe my eyes, I guess I expected to see through her but she looked as solid as a living person in the morning sunlight.
I sat down in a chair towards the back of the room and leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees. I had a sudden flash of intuition about how to deal with the situation. I told her I didn't even know her name. I told her my name and she told me hers. Her name was Sarah, and she was seven years old.
I told her that I had something extremely difficult to tell her and that I wasn't teasing her or trying to be mean. I let her know that I just wanted to help. I told her to forget about seeing the doctor and about going home for just a second. Look around. Tell me what you see. She didn't seem to understand, but after a second she looked around and started looking confused. "What is this? Where are we?"
She looked at me and I told her that she is free to go home whenever she wants. I was very sorry to tell her, but she didn't live to see the doctor come to her room. She started to sob, but seemed to understand.
She looked directly into my eyes and said, "You mean, I can go home now?"
By now, I was crying like a baby. I told her that all she had to do was understand that she needs to let go of this place and she was free to go.
"I'm going home," she said. "I have to say good-bye to my Mom and Dad."
She was crying what looked like happy tears now. "Thank you. Can I give you a hug?" I told her I would love that. When she put her arms around me I was expecting to feel something. All I felt was Love. No physical sensation whatsoever.
And she was gone.
A rush of energy through my body and I was alone in the room. I sat for about five minutes trying to regain my composure. As I was getting up to leave two women came in to sit and talk. I guess one of them saw that I'd been crying and asked me if everything was all right. As I walked past to the hallway I told her I could honestly say I have never been happier in my life.
I don't know why I was the person she reached out to, I just hope that she is now able to rest. I was with my dad for about four more hours today, and I never sensed her.
I hope Sarah is happy, at home.
Thanks Mark for your inspiring and sensitive story. I do have to say that it is not uncommon to see those who have passed on in many different ways (and now that I think of it, Ghostories must be a living testimonial to that). For example, you should check out John Edward (see the front page of Ghostories) who tells us he receives most of what his spirits wish to convey to him not in words, but as things we might understand like representations, images if you will, or (for example) he says they show ideas to him in symbolism where "pink roses mean those who want to give you their love." John says they speak to him in ways they believe he will understand -- and as it seems, they do the same for you, and possibly just a bit more.
Clearly, this little girl reached out to you -- for whatever reason, maybe because you were there, or you had the sensitivity, the awareness to be able to feel her presence, to see her -- and yes, even communicate with her. I guess "why" it was you, we might never really know. The important thing here, though, isn't the why, it is the "when and the where." At for you to be there at such a critical moment in time, to help her find her way back home, that is truly the most important thing you could have ever done for her, or for anyone in such a situation.
I do want to take this moment as a thank you to Mark for contributing not only his story, but $7 toward Ghostories -- and say that, to date, some of the ABSOLUTE BEST stories we have received have come from those who have decided to contribute this small, yet not insignificant amount -- and for those who are avid readers, this is a plus for you, and for all of us. We benefit from the higher quality of stories, and for those who think so highly of our site to do such a thing as contribute their stories and their support .... So, if any readers out there ever feel the inspiration to help support this site, please send me an e-mail to Keno and let me know you would like to do so -- it can only be appreciated, and I know, you know, it always will be -- for all of those to follow, to discover, and to come to love, Ghostories.
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