It’s almost Hallowe’en again, when we scare ourselves with witches, demons, ghosts and goblins, vampires and zombies, laughing in the face of frightening death; and it seems appropriate to tell a (woooo!) ghost story. I’m a psychic and medium, and like many people I have seen a lot of spirits, some strangers and some familiar, and I’m sorry to report that I have yet to meet a scary one.

I told this story in my book, The Art of Intuition, but it’s worth repeating for those of you who are afraid of dying, who think you snuff out like a candle (sorry, kids, you don’t get off so easy). Often, being in a light trance, I don’t remember what happens in a reading, but this one was so dramatic, unusual and beautiful I can’t forget. And neither will you. I dare you. Try to forget it. And if you do, write and tell me you’ve forgot. . . .

One day when a woman came for a reading, she brought her husband who stayed in the next room. I no sooner began her reading than I was felled by a headache so violent that I thought, “I won’t be able to do this; I’m going to be sick.” Then it came to me that the headache wasn’t mine. “Do you have a headache?” I asked. “No,” she answered. Just then a spirit appeared at me side.

“Oh, there’s a spirit here that wants to speak to you,” I said, realizing the headache had disappeared. “She is calling you Mother. She says you’re her mother.”

“I don’t have a daughter,” she responded stiffly.

“Well, she’s calling you her mother. Oh, and there’s a baby with her, a toddler, about knee high. Maybe a year old.”

“What’s she wearing?” she asked, eyes narrowed skeptically.

“It’s some sort of brown pants suit, not very attractive.”

“Can my husband come in? I think it’s his daughter.” I agreed. Her husband was called in, and the moment he sat down, the spirit flew into his lap and flung her arms around his neck, kissing and hugging him.

To make the story short, the now-deceased daughter had been in the army. A year earlier she had been walking from one barrack to another when she was struck by lightning and killed. She was pregnant. Now she appeared from the Other Side with an infant toddling at her side, and here she was holding her father, hugging and loving him, so happy to see him! He could feel her presence. We all could. We were all three in tears. She stayed only a few minutes, and then she had to leave, return to the Other Side. She took the baby’s hand and disappeared.

What happens on the Other Side of the Great Black Wall? I do not know. There are many mansions in our Father’s House, as Jesus said; and physicists posit not four but 12 dimensions. I think some spirits go to one place and some to another, but we will all have work to do on the Other Side, and much joy. I know that the colors are brighter than on this plane or planet, that music is sweeter and beauty even more beautiful (if that’s possible). I have seen grieving spirits, and wandering, lost ones, and some that are happy and others that are ashamed and regretful (begging forgiveness) of their behavior during their living life, for in those other dimensions, we gain greater understanding, as we develop more empathy, more love, more compassion, until I think there may be nothing but utter and incomprehensible energy, indescribable love. Happy Hallowe’en. Joy on All Soul’s Day.

Sophy Burnham, author of The Art of Intuition, A Book of Angels, Angel Letters, The Path of Prayer, The Ecstatic Journey, For Writers Only, and more.