At a recent event, where I was delivering messages from spirit to an audience of several hundred people eagerly looking at me and hoping 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 changed into two fetusesÖ and then one melted away, leaving one embryo in the womb.
I concentrated a moment, whispered a quick blessing for the departed child, then said, "I feel the presence of a child who died in utero. He was one of a twin, and I feel his surviving brother is here in the audience. Can 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 fourth, but my brother didnít make it."
"Thank you," I said, both to the man and to the spirit coming forward. I gave the man some personal details about his life, which he understood, then finished with, "Your brother is telling me that he walks with you all the time. And when itís time for you to go home Ė and that wonít be for quite awhile Ė heíll meet you on the other side."
I took a deep breath to clear myself, then asked spirit to come through again. Suddenly, I felt a weight of sorrow on my shoulders, and a sharp chest pain. I looked at the people and spoke to the impressions I was now getting.
"A man is talking to me about a gunshot wound," I said. "Heís telling me his wife is in the audience. He left behind a child Ė no, Iím sorry, Iím being corrected. The child hasnít been born yet. Itís going to be a boy."
I described the man, and a woman raised her hand. "Thatís my husband," she said, fighting back tears. "He was killed in a holdup last month." Then she confirmed that an amniocentesis had revealed the child was male.
"Heís telling me that heíll be there at the birth of your child," I said. "And heíll continue to watch over the two of you from the spirit world."
Thank you, the woman mouthed as she wiped her eyes. I took another breath to centre myself, then felt the next spirit presence. It had perhaps the most satisfying message I delivered that day. It was the words of a boy who had passed when he was eight years old. Being a parent, I have no idea of what it would be like to lose a child, and those kinds of messages always leave me with an ache in my heart.
I described the boy to the audience, and the sensation I was feeling of how he had died. "He wants his parents to know that heís alright now," I said. "Heís sitting on the floor playing with a little red fire engine. He says thatís his favourite toy."
The parents acknowledged my words with nods and gentle smiles. Afterward, they approached me to say that one day, a fireman had given the boy a special ride in an engine, and his favourite toy was indeed a shiny red fire truck. "In fact," the father said, "itís sitting on top of his dresser in his room."
What made my day was when the father said that before this afternoon, he hadnít believed in the afterlife. "Thank you," he said. And as the couple walked away, I thanked spirit for allowing me to deliver those healing words.