Do you believe in ghosts?
I know that we’ve all sat around campfires in our younger days scaring ourselves out of our wits telling urban legends about flesh eating neighbors living under our beds. But now that we’re all a little bit older and wiser, where do we all stand on the whole “spirits lurking among us” thing?!?!
When I was about fifteen years old, I spent my summer at ranch just outside of London. As a counselor in training that year, I had spent nearly two and half months doing everything from kitchen duty, riding instructor and of course, camp counselor for the hundreds of kids that came to stay with us in the woods for weeks at a time.
The ranch was set on 220 acres of land, including wooded areas and cornfields. Each camping area was tucked away in different parts of the ranch to give each group a more private setting once group events were over. There was no doubt that once the sun went down, the ranch was a scary place! Without the light pollution radiating from the city, the ranch was very dark at night and no amount of flashlights ever seemed to make it better!
One night in early August, I was co-counseling a group of eleven year-old girls for two weeks. Each of us counselors were required, throughout each camp session, to take turns monitoring the sites after dark. The girl’s site was the closest to the camp lodge but still far enough away that it would give you a run for your money if you needed to use the washroom in the middle of night. Our site, unlike most of the others, was protected by the shelter of enormous maple trees that had a small clearing just in the middle of them. While this provided a welcome canopy during the rainy days of summer, it also made the perfect home for the many things that go bump in the night. The nocturnal happenings of the woods were certainly more alive under the trees and became one of the scariest places that I endured during my childhood!
Late one night while I happen to be on monitoring duty, another counselor came back to their tent to call it a night. Given that it was going to take her a couple of minutes to settle in, I asked her if she would mind taking over for me while I ran to the lodge to use the washroom and grab a drink. So, flashlight in hand, I took a deep breath and made my way through the dark woods to the lodge. Every step that I took made the leaves and branches crinkle under my feet and my heart start beating a little faster. It was impossible to get around the site without perpetually thinking that someone was trailing close behind you (and, if my imagination had anything to do with it, it was almost always someone of the “knife-wielding-camp-counselor-abducting” disposition!).
Ten minutes later, I arrived back at the site unharmed and unwilling to return to the lodge regardless of how much my bladder needed it! I quickly went to my co-counselor’s tent to let her know that I had returned and that she was free to peacefully head off to dreamland for the night. Just as I about to pull back the thick canvas flap of her tent, I was startled by a young girl standing right next to me in front of the tent. She was young…too young (maybe eight years-old or so), with long dark hair, extremely sad eyes and a long white night gown nearly reaching the ground. I looked over at her, puzzled as to how she could have sneaked up on me so unexpectedly, and quietly said to her “stay here for one second and I’ll take you back to your tent”.
Desperately wanting to return the little girl to her bed, I quickly poked my head in the tent to let my colleague know that I returned and no more than ten seconds later, I closed the tent flap, turned to take the little girl’s hand and realized that she was gone. She was nowhere to be seen. I glanced around and there was no sight of her. I hadn’t heard her move or enter her tent. She was just…gone.
I didn’t think too much of it at the time but the next morning, as I looked around at the campers during breakfast, I noticed that there wasn’t anyone bearing the same resemblance as her. No one with long, dark hair like hers and certainly no one that looked that young. When I asked around to other counselors, no one remembers any of their campers having any white, frilly nightgowns either. In fact, the standard response was “who would send their kid to camp with something like that anyways?!?!”
Good question. I would have said the same thing myself had I not seen it with my own eyes.
I’ll admit, my eyes could have playing tricks on me and it might not have been real. But it felt real and my brain thought it was real enough for me to actually speak to whatever it was that I was looking at. I’ll also admit that maybe there was in fact a little girl standing there and that in the light of day, every thing just looked different. I honestly don’t know. All I know is that even now, fifteen years later, I still think about it, still believe it and most certainly…still get a little weary of little girls in white dresses!!!
I know that we’ve all sat around campfires in our younger days scaring ourselves out of our wits telling urban legends about flesh eating neighbors living under our beds. But now that we’re all a little bit older and wiser, where do we all stand on the whole “spirits lurking among us” thing?!?!
When I was about fifteen years old, I spent my summer at ranch just outside of London. As a counselor in training that year, I had spent nearly two and half months doing everything from kitchen duty, riding instructor and of course, camp counselor for the hundreds of kids that came to stay with us in the woods for weeks at a time.
The ranch was set on 220 acres of land, including wooded areas and cornfields. Each camping area was tucked away in different parts of the ranch to give each group a more private setting once group events were over. There was no doubt that once the sun went down, the ranch was a scary place! Without the light pollution radiating from the city, the ranch was very dark at night and no amount of flashlights ever seemed to make it better!
One night in early August, I was co-counseling a group of eleven year-old girls for two weeks. Each of us counselors were required, throughout each camp session, to take turns monitoring the sites after dark. The girl’s site was the closest to the camp lodge but still far enough away that it would give you a run for your money if you needed to use the washroom in the middle of night. Our site, unlike most of the others, was protected by the shelter of enormous maple trees that had a small clearing just in the middle of them. While this provided a welcome canopy during the rainy days of summer, it also made the perfect home for the many things that go bump in the night. The nocturnal happenings of the woods were certainly more alive under the trees and became one of the scariest places that I endured during my childhood!
Late one night while I happen to be on monitoring duty, another counselor came back to their tent to call it a night. Given that it was going to take her a couple of minutes to settle in, I asked her if she would mind taking over for me while I ran to the lodge to use the washroom and grab a drink. So, flashlight in hand, I took a deep breath and made my way through the dark woods to the lodge. Every step that I took made the leaves and branches crinkle under my feet and my heart start beating a little faster. It was impossible to get around the site without perpetually thinking that someone was trailing close behind you (and, if my imagination had anything to do with it, it was almost always someone of the “knife-wielding-camp-counselor-abducting” disposition!).
Ten minutes later, I arrived back at the site unharmed and unwilling to return to the lodge regardless of how much my bladder needed it! I quickly went to my co-counselor’s tent to let her know that I had returned and that she was free to peacefully head off to dreamland for the night. Just as I about to pull back the thick canvas flap of her tent, I was startled by a young girl standing right next to me in front of the tent. She was young…too young (maybe eight years-old or so), with long dark hair, extremely sad eyes and a long white night gown nearly reaching the ground. I looked over at her, puzzled as to how she could have sneaked up on me so unexpectedly, and quietly said to her “stay here for one second and I’ll take you back to your tent”.
Desperately wanting to return the little girl to her bed, I quickly poked my head in the tent to let my colleague know that I returned and no more than ten seconds later, I closed the tent flap, turned to take the little girl’s hand and realized that she was gone. She was nowhere to be seen. I glanced around and there was no sight of her. I hadn’t heard her move or enter her tent. She was just…gone.
I didn’t think too much of it at the time but the next morning, as I looked around at the campers during breakfast, I noticed that there wasn’t anyone bearing the same resemblance as her. No one with long, dark hair like hers and certainly no one that looked that young. When I asked around to other counselors, no one remembers any of their campers having any white, frilly nightgowns either. In fact, the standard response was “who would send their kid to camp with something like that anyways?!?!”
Good question. I would have said the same thing myself had I not seen it with my own eyes.
I’ll admit, my eyes could have playing tricks on me and it might not have been real. But it felt real and my brain thought it was real enough for me to actually speak to whatever it was that I was looking at. I’ll also admit that maybe there was in fact a little girl standing there and that in the light of day, every thing just looked different. I honestly don’t know. All I know is that even now, fifteen years later, I still think about it, still believe it and most certainly…still get a little weary of little girls in white dresses!!!
3 comments:
Something else a little ghostly is that this post does not show up on my blog update list!
Smiles
Great story! I work in an old hospital that used to be a TB sanatorium. Many people have died here and ghost sightings are not uncommon. "Francine" and a little boy she care for are most frequently reported and even made our newspaper. Who knows what is just beyond our counsciousness? I have no personal insights.
That was great to read. I have a ghost, his name is "Tom". I am not sure why his name is Tom, but that is what popped into my head when I first realized he was there. I have only heard him 2x, maybe 3 in the 5 years I have lived in my house, but I know he is still there.
K
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