Ever since Charles Dickens published A Christmas Carol in 1843, ghosts have been part of the Christmas tradition -- a different kind of Christmas spirit, so to speak. Many people, besides Ebenezer Scrooge, have encountered ghosts at the Christmas season. Some of those spirits, like the eerie Ghost of Christmas Future, are dark and foreboding, while others, like angels, seem to embody the joy and hopefulness of the holiday.
Light a yuletide candle and consider these true stories.
MOTHER'S CHRISTMAS PRESENT
My mother, to whom I was very close, passed away in 1964 when I was 17 years old. I left home that year and moved to Ontario from Nova Scotia. In 1969 I met a girl whom I will call Karen and we got married in March of 1970.
In December of 1971 we were expecting our first child. We were living in a small 1-1/2 bedroom bungalow. There was a fireplace in the living room. My wife and I loved the fireplace and we had it lit every night.
It was Christmas Eve, 1971, and we had just finished putting the gifts under the tree and a nice fire gave off a beautiful glow. On the tree, one string of lights, which was supposed to flash, had stopped several days before.
It was five minutes to midnight when the fireplace suddenly just about went out, and the string of lights started to flash - and the other lights stopped flashing! My wife and I were sitting on the floor and it had become very chilly in the room.
I looked over to my recliner chair... and a figure was sitting there -- my mother with a big beautiful smile on her face! My wife, who had never met my mother, said she could see the same thing. This "ghost" never spoke, but just kept looking at me and my wife and smiling.
At 12 midnight, the fire in the fireplace started up again and the lights on the tree stopped flashing and the others started flashing again.
I looked over in the chair and the ghost was gone. No matter what I did to those Christmas lights, they never flashed again. -- Arthur H.
THE PUSHY GHOST
It was the first Christmas I spent with my husband's family. We went to his oldest brother's house Christmas Eve. When we got there, they (my husband's family) told me that the house was haunted. I didn't mind because I've been in haunted houses before. They told me to be careful walking down the stairs because the ghosts pushed people down the stairs.
I was coming down stairs to look for my husband, when all of a sudden I felt like someone pushed my feet out from under me. I ended up falling down the first four stairs. After I did that, everyone came running to make sure I was okay. They asked me what happened, and I said it felt like someone pushed my legs out from under me and I just fell down the stairs.
On Christmas morning, we all got up to open presents. Everyone asked me how I was doing and I told them I was fine, but my legs and back hurt. Later, my husband told me it was because I had an oval bruise on my back and on the back of both my legs. After that Christmas Eve, I never got pushed down the stairs again or heard anything else about the ghost. -- Cassie B.
WARNED BY A GUARDIAN ANGEL
It was just a few days before Christmas, 1991, and I had some last minute Christmas shopping to do. Working full time and being a full-time mom, this was a rare chance to get out and have some time to myself. It was dusk, and the weather was overcast and chilly. I entered the store with a real Christmas spirit. I browsed here and there. Looking down at my ragged purse, I realized that perhaps I should splurge and buy myself a new purse.
I decided that since I was there to shop, I may as well buy myself a new purse.
After about five minutes of browsing, I noticed a man. He did not bring attention to himself, rather something brought my attention to him. He was a young adult, dark-skinned, tall, with a head of long, dark, curly hair.
He was really good looking with a well-defined jawline, high cheekbones and a great complexion. He was wearing a long, tan-colored trench coat. He was standing in front of me about 10 feet away. He seemed interested in the purses also.
I resumed looking at every purse in the aisle when out of nowhere -- and totally unexpected -- a voice boomed in my head: "Look up, you are being followed!" Instinctively, I looked up without hesitation. There was the same man, standing several yards in front of me, still looking at purses. Of course this unsettled me, so I decided to leave the purse aisle. I went to a couple of other departments in the store, but the same guy was never more than 20 feet away from me.
He was unlikely store security. The man was tracking me alright, but for ominous reasons. Unbeknownst to this man, I had been alerted to his presence by that voice.
By now my Christmas spirit was fading, and I decided to check out. As I approached the check-out counters, there stood the same young man, reading a paperback book from the book racks.
I paid for my goods and headed for the front exit lobby doors.
As I approached the front exit, I saw this same individual again. He was in the store lobby, pacing back and forth! I was immediately reminded of how a lion acts in a cage at the zoo. And now I knew this person was just as deadly. A people greeter was standing just a few feet from the exit doors. I told her, "That young man in the trench coat in the lobby has been following me through the store. Can you please get someone to walk me to my car?" She said, "Yes, I'll be right back." I just stood there because I did not want my stalker to realize I was "onto him."
I looked to my right. The canteen was there, and maybe I could waltz over and look at the menu. I was starting to get hungry. As I started to walk toward the canteen, my skin crawled. There in the canteen area, sitting at a table, glaring right at me, was my would-be stalker. His eyes met mine for about three seconds. They were full of hate.
A guardian angel had thwarted whatever evil plan he had for me, and he was pissed. He walked back into the store while I stared at the floor, and then set down at the canteen to maintain an innocent demeanor. But the glare in his eyes gave it away. He knew I had been warned by a guardian angel -- and I knew that he knew it. -- Tonja Earles
HARK, THE HERALD ANGELS SING
On Christmas Eve night, 1978 at about 3:00 a.m. in Klammath Falls, Oregon, I was suddenly aware and awakened by a choir singing. The house was new construction, miles from the nearest church. I strained to hear any words that I could understand or a tune that I could identify, but I could not understand the language or tune. I did get a feeling of "angelic" exaltation, reverence and gladness of heart. This was truly a heavenly choir lifting their voices on high, singing hosanna in the highest, in an unknown tongue, without accompaniment of instruments.
I examined the television, but it was turned off, as was the radio. I explored outside, but the singing was not heard outdoors. The way the countless male, female and children's voices entwined together, the tonals going from operatic highs to the deepest bass voices in perfect harmony. It must have lasted about 10 minutes, but it was touching for an eternity. -- Mel Shrum
SEASIDE GHOST
This happened on Christmas Eve, 1961. I had returned from college in London to spend Christmas in my hometown of Scarborough, on the north-east coast of England. In the afternoon, I went into the centre of town to buy Christmas presents. At about 4 p.m., I was ready to return home. Scarborough has two bays divided by a headland on which stands a ruined castle. A road, the Marine Drive, runs round the bottom of the headland from one bay to the other.
As I had not seen the sea for some time, I decided to walk this way home to where I lived in the North Bay. In those days the Marine Drive was unlit and very dark. I had gone about two hundred yards when a car came toward me round the bend of the drive. It was traveling quite slowly and for some time the beam of the headlamps fell on the railings on the seaward side of the road.
About 20 yards in front of me was a ghost standing at the railings looking down into the sea. The form was of someone dressed in a monk's cowl, hooded, drooping sleeves, a complete form, but clearly insubstantial -- the kind of figure most people accept as a stereotypical ghost. I was very afraid and stood rooted to the spot.
The ghost then turned toward me and, as if it was as frightened of me as I was of it, it began to retreat backward. There were no discernable limbs, but the bottom of the figure appeared to writhe about. It then disappeared out of the beam of the headlamp into the darkness. I decided to go no further round the drive, but turned around to return to the South Bay and catch a bus.
My right leg went. I found it very difficult to walk, but managed to hobble to the bus stop where I eventually caught a bus home. My leg was better by the time I got off the bus. This infirmity had never happened to me before, nor has it since.
I later made enquiries and found someone had committed suicide from somewhere near the position of the ghost.
They had removed their clothes and left them neatly folded on the drive before leaping into the sea. That said, there can be no incontrovertible connection between this and the ghost I saw. -- Mike B.
THE LOST GHOST
Around Christmas time, 2001, I had a few weird experiences involving a spirit that must still live in our house. One of the past owners, a lady, died in our house. Around Christmas time, I felt the presence more and a lot stronger than I usually did.
One night, I decided to draw whatever my hand felt like drawing. I drew a bottle with ribbons exploding out of it, then a yacht... then it felt like someone was moving my hand for me. My hand drew a circular shape that at first looked like a peach. My hand lifted and dropped and made a mark inside the circle. My hand lifted again and dropped and it made a weird curve. My hand drew another dot. I regained full control over my hand again and I looked at what I had a drawn: a weird smiley face.
I told my mum about it and she said to try it again the next night, and so I did. I was painting some landscapes in water colours when I felt the presence again. My mum had said that she thought her name was Faye, so that name was stuck in my mind.
I asked, "What is your name?" and I let my hand be controlled. I wrote what looked like the name Faye. I asked what the last name was. I wrote something that looked like "Edith." This was all confusing. I asked why it was here, and the reply looked like "I'm lost." I asked why it was here with me, and the reply looked kind of like "crussby," but was still very hard to read. I asked, "What?" and the answer cleared up a bit, but still not a real word. I asked again, and the final reply came what looked like "crusty." I am still puzzled, but the spirit may have meant the house was crusty since it is falling to bits in some areas.
Later on, my mum confirmed that the lady's name was Edith. This freaked me out big time, and I still felt the presence strongly for a while until a few days after Christmas. -- Alle G.
CHRISTMAS PHONE CALL FROM HEAVEN
My mother passed away three years ago. We were very close and I miss her daily. Last Christmas evening, I went to bed and woke up to the phone ringing. I answered it and a voice that was very familiar to me said, "Hello there." It was my mother's voice. The line had a static noise and it sounded to cut in and out. I said, "This can't be you, mom. You're dead."
She said, "Oh, come on now." She sounded a bit agitated, and then we were cut off. My 16-year-old daughter was sleeping in the next room and also heard the phone ring that night. I know it was my mother's voice: she has a Norwegian accent and it was her! -- Bonnie O.
THE GOLDEN FEATHER
When I was six years old, on Christmas Eve I was very bored. I went across the street to see if my friend could play, but she couldn't, so I was very sad and came home to mope on the couch by the Christmas tree. As I was sitting there, there was a knock at the door. My grandma, aunt and mom all came running out telling me not to answer it, because I wasn't allowed to. I assumed it was my friend from across the street, but as they opened the door I saw that it wasn't my friend... but a Christmas bag. We all looked around outside to see no one whatsoever. We picked the bag up and read the tiny card that was attached to it, and it said "TO BRITTANIE" -- that's me. I opened it and pulled out a huge beautiful golden feather! My family and I were very surprised, and we assumed it was from my guardian angel.
After that incident, every year around Christmas, I received another golden feather. (When I was seven I didn't receive one because something else happened.) But when I was eight I found one in the candy section strapped against a white piece of cardboard at a store. I showed it to my mom, who was very surprised and asked the cashier if we could buy that as well, but since there was no price on it, the cashier said it was free!
When I was nine, I found a golden feather in my backpack in school when it wasn't there that morning! When I was ten, the same thing happened, except I found it after school in my backpack.
When I was eleven, I received a golden bag. It was Christmas Eve and I was sad because I didn't get a feather yet, so as I was playing ball with my mom in the front yard.
The ball flew over my head and I ran after it, tripping over the outside tree light cord. The lights on the tree went off. Then we plugged them back in. As soon as we did that, a golden bag appeared in the tree when it wasn't there before. I opened it and inside it had a note that said: "ALWAYS BELIEVE" and a green, white and gold angel pin -- the colors of Ireland.
I'm Irish.
Also, there was stuffing inside the bag, and it had the purest smell I've ever smelled. It smelled like heaven or something. When I was twelve, I received another golden feather in my backpack. Then when I was thirteen, which I am now, I received a silver Celtic box. It had green stones on the sides of it and it said: "LORD, HEAR MY PRAYER" on it. Inside were white feathers and small golden shamrock with a green gem stone in the center and a metal that was as if something had mended it into saying: "BELIEVE."
So that's all that has happened to me so far on every Christmas. I can't wait to update you in the following years. -- Brittanie
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