“He started thinking about me a week or so ago and couldn’t get me out of his mind.”

I come from a working class family.  Everything I’ve ever earned was due to hard work and dedication.

However, I want to tell you about an experience that brought me happiness and joy that I never dreamed of.  And it was all due to luck, or what some might call – psychic intuition.

It occurred several days ago and I had to write you and tell you about it.  That’s how excited I am.

A good friend of mine, Mel, called and said he had something urgent to show me.  At the time I was busy with work and a personal problem I was having with one of the kids, and I tried to postpone getting together.  But I could tell by the tone of Mel’s voice, and his insistence that we meet immediately, that I had to concur with his wishes.

The moment I saw Mel, I knew something was up.  He took me by the arm and led me into his small office, which was located in the rear of his home.  He unwrapped a package and showed it to me.

It was beautiful sculpture of a horse.  It was made of bronze and was stunning.  He said his uncle Josh with whom he had been out of touch with for some time had sent it to him out of the blue.  It was a very touching gift from someone he hadn’t seen in over a year.

Obviously, his uncle cared a great deal for Mel, and it was reflected in the quality of this gorgeous gift.

Then Mel handed me another package.  This one was smaller, and to my surprise, it had my name on it.  I didn’t understand and was a bit shocked because I had only met Mel’s Uncle on one occasion.  Although I do remember we really clicked, and had spent a good part of the day together.

You see, I have been divorced for many years, and Josh had never married.

I opened the package to find a beautiful bracelet. It was stunning, in fact.  I didn’t know what to say.  What was puzzling to me was that Josh had popped into my mind recently and I simply couldn’t stop thinking about him.  Yet, we hadn’t seen each other for at least a year, and that was the only time we had been with each other.

In fact, we hadn’t even communicated by letter or email since that time.

Well, there was a note included in the package, and Josh wrote this beautiful little poem that essentially said he started thinking about me a week or so ago (the same time I started thinking about him), and couldn’t get me out of his mind.  And he wanted to send me something.

Needless to say, I wrote him a nice note and said I’d look forward to seeing him again.  He’ll be in town next month and I can’t wait to see how things develop.

W. Sturgeous
London, England

“My son had “felt” the crash and had actually toppled over in the kitchen.”

It was seven o’clock in the evening and I was stuck in traffic.

I had worked a long day and I was beside myself because it was my son’s birthday, and I had told him I’d be home early and we’d all go out for dinner to celebrate.

Worse yet, my cell phone’s battery was running low, and I couldn’t call home to alert everyone I was stuck in traffic.

Then this motorcycle, seemingly out of the blue, crashes into me.  Fortunately, I had my seatbelt on, but the other guy goes flying over the top of my hood, crashing to the ground.

I rushed out of my car to help him, but I could see he wasn’t moving.  He was unconscious and blood was streaming from his head.  Pretty soon the ambulance arrived.  I don’t know how they got through the traffic, but somehow they did.  They took the poor fellow away.  I heard later on that he survived but did suffer a serious injury.

My car was damaged but fit enough to drive.  When I finally pulled up to the driveway at my home, my wife could see I had been in an accident and she rushed into my arms.  When I told her what had happened, she said she knew.

I didn’t understand, but she explained that my son had “felt” the crash and had actually toppled over in the kitchen.  When I asked if she remembered what time it was, she said ten minutes after seven, which happened to be the exact time the motorcycle had hit me.

M. Parstran
Arlington, VA

“Dysfunctional Family Can’t Hold Her Back”

I was told it could not be done.

This is what my father told me time and time again, especially when I wanted to try something I had never done before.

You see, my father was not a daring man.  Well, that wasn’t the problem; the problem was he couldn’t bear to see me succeed.  Somehow my success would amplify his failure in life, and his purpose in life was to hold me back.

I was fifteen at the time and I wanted to try out for the cheerleading team.  He told me I was too heavy, he told me I was clumsy, he told me I wasn’t bright enough to learn the various steps, the complicated cheers.  And worst of all, he told me the other girls wouldn’t accept me because I wasn’t pretty enough.

What a father.

So, I tried out, anyway.  And to his utter dismay, I made it.  Well, kind of.  I was an alternative.  But, hey, when you come from a family like mine – a totally unsupportive, dysfunctional group – well, this was a grand success.

So, you might ask, how did I make it?  I’ll tell you.

I’ve always been the type of person who isn’t afraid of failure.  And it doesn’t hurt that I have kind of a sixth sense that tells me exactly where to go and how to do it.  I’ve always been able to read minds.  And as for new ideas, I swear they’re floating in the air.

I believe I am psychic.  I certainly have had psychic experiences since I was a small child.  And I have survived because of this inner voice I hear inside my head that leads me to the right place at the right time.  Some may call it luck.  I call it intuition.

And I’m married now; I can honestly say, happily.  And when my kids try to pull the wool over my eyes, they know by now it’s impossible because I know what they’re thinking.  And, incidentally, my oldest, Sara, turned out exactly like me.  As a result, we often communicate silently.  She has even more psychic ability than me.

S. Aimes
Boulder, CO

“When she opened the door, I instinctively knew why my intuition had led me there.”

It was a Sunday and I was all alone.  I had broken up with my boyfriend who had finally admitted he wasn’t interested in marriage – at least not to me.

It would be an understatement to say my heart was broken.  The same thing had happened to a few of my friends over the years, but I thought my relationship was solid.  Boy, was I mistaken.

So here I was, lonely as could be with nothing to do on my day off.  I had worked hard that week, including Saturday, and how I yearned to spend it with that special person.  I must admit, I cried a bit.

But then I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself, and I started making some calls.

The first few people I called were busy, and unfortunately, they were the only single friends I had.  But then I had what you might call an inspiration.  Someone came to mind that I hadn’t thought of for years.  She was an old high school acquaintance, and somehow her image popped into my mind.

And I felt an urgency to call her.

Sure enough, when I heard her voice on the other end of the line, I knew something good was going to happen.  I don’t know why I felt that way, but I did.

Within an hour, I found myself driving over to her apartment on the other side of town, and when she opened the door, I instinctively knew why my intuition had led me there.

Looking over her shoulder, I saw a smiling man, and I immediately fell for him – before I was even introduced.

Well, he happened to be in town on business, and I was relieved to learn that he and my friend were merely platonic.  I would have been so disappointed if I didn’t have a shot at him.

To make a long story short, we have been seeing each other on and off for almost a year now, and he just asked me if I’d consider moving to his town.  And none of this would have happened had I not had that psychic inclination to call my old friend that day.

I. La Roche
St. Paul, MN

“He used his psychic ability in ways most people couldn’t or wouldn’t.”

Michael was a childhood friend.  We used to hang out together, and we remained the best of friends since the second grade.

As the years went by, my parents couldn’t understand why I insisted we were platonic since I refused to date anyone else.  But there was a reason.  Actually, there were several reasons.

Michael knew me.  I mean he really knew me.  I’m not going to reveal whether or not we had sex together, but he could read me better than anyone else on earth.  I admired his intellect, his humor, and perhaps most of all, his incredible perception.

Michael has this amazing ability to not only read my mind but others as well.  And he used his psychic ability in ways most people couldn’t or wouldn’t.

Let me give an example:  When we were in high school, he would give me clues what events were about to occur.  Not the mundane stuff, but important events in the news.  He would do this time after time.  And it was seemingly impossible for anyone to do so.  But not impossible for my good friend.

He once predicted a serious downturn in the stock market, and called it right on the exact day.  He predicted the death of several famous people.  He predicted worldwide catastrophes such as plane crashes, tornados in specific places, etc.

He also told me my aunt who was fifty-one and who had never married had finally found a good man and would soon marry him.  Michael had met her the year before and I could see they had an immediate connection; they were on the same wavelength.  Naturally, when I called her, she was shocked because she had told no one.  But when I explained Michael had clued me in, we both laughed because she and I knew what remarkable powers he had.

Well, Michael’s parents divorced the beginning of our senior year.  His mother took him out to California and although we stayed in touch by letter for a year or so, we kind of drifted apart.

The reason I’m writing this is that a few weeks ago, I heard through a mutual friend that Michael had died in an automobile accident while on vacation in Europe.  He was forty-three, single, had never married.  When I first met my husband and told him about Michael, he was a bit jealous so we never spoke much about him.  I suppose he knew I loved Michael – perhaps a bit more than just in a platonic way.  And I’ll miss him terribly.

Jan Sheridan
Boston, MA