by Celia Hales
I don’t know if this experience is a miracle. Sometimes it seems like one. But maybe it is a departed one reaching back to the world she left behind. That, in itself, would be a kind of miracle–one that science doesn’t understand as yet.
For many years, I have felt, from time to time, the sensation of someone kissing the crown of my head. This sensation always gives me a warm feeling, a feeling of being protected from all harm. As I look out on my day, my environment–especially when I am outside–suddenly seem clearer than before. The sun seems brighter, or, if it is raining, I feel sudden gratitude for the moisture hitting the earth. I feel touched by an angel.
I have a now-departed family friend named Mattie. She helped raise me. She had what she called my “sweet spot”–the crown of my head–where she always kissed me. She said that this spot belonged to her.
“Come here, Child,” she would say, as I was running out the back door to go play with my little friends.
She would plant a firm kiss on the top of my head.
“That sweet spot belongs to me,” she would say, and then she would laugh happily.
I think, to my credit, that I nearly always, as a child, made her happy. We shared lots of love between us.
Mattie has been beyond the veil of death for more than 20 years. I wish I could say with certainty that these sensations on the crown of my head began after she died. But I don’t know for sure. Certainly the brushes against my hair began a very long time ago.
Has Mattie found a way to bless me from heaven? Perhaps so. Certainly we loved each other deeply, and love, I believe, always survives death.
Thank you, Mattie. I’m going to believe that it is you.