I am scared of ghosts! To date (and long may this last!) I have never seen one! But I hold a very real, irrational fear which stems from my early childhood days!
I was fortunate to have both my maternal grandmother and great grandmother (we called her ‘Ouma’, Afrikaans for old mother) throughout my childhood and teenage years. Ouma died when I was twenty and expecting my first child. We just missed five generations!
Much as I felt very lucky to have these two special people in my life, unfortunately they were both avid believers in the spirit world. I found their sightings and stories of ghosts and strange occurrences fascinating but very frightening. My vivid imagination always worked overtime when it got dark and that was when their supernatural revelations would come back to ‘haunt’ me!
I would awaken after a vivid dream and call out to my mother. It was the usual ‘Mommy, I’m scared’! I’d hear her wake my father. I’d take his place in their bed and he would sleep in mine. We’d pass like two ships in the night, just a grunt from my father as he stumbled past and an acknowledgement from my mother. Sometimes I’d tearfully tell her that I’d dreamt of ghosts in my room and she would always say the same ‘ there are no such things as ghosts’!
Ouma lived with her spinster daughter in a small, very old house attached to a larger one. The sitting room comprised of a long dining room table with high backed chairs, some pushed against the wall. Black blinds were drawn as soon as sunlight began to shine through the large sash window. This kept the room cool and prevented the family photographs lining the walls from fading.
As I got older and didn’t see any ghosts, my fears began to subside. If I heard sounds in the night I’d put my sheet over my head to cover my face, just leaving my nose out to breathe!
One specific photograph, in a large oval frame, always fascinated me. I was told that the little girl was called Alice, Ouma’s daughter, who had died when she was about five years old. One day Ouma told me Alice’s story and my fear of ghosts returned.
Ouma was born around 1880 and lived through the Anglo Boer wars. Alice would have been born in the early 1900’s. She was a beautiful, healthy, happy child and much loved by all. When she was five years old she died of a fever which could have been measles, scarlet fever, I’m not sure. Ouma was heartbroken and distraught. She told me that she cried for a long time and sometimes felt so sad that she couldn’t get out of bed!
One night, while Ouma was on her own, she was sitting in bed, trying to read her bible through her tears. Suddenly she felt as if someone was with her in the room. She looked up and saw Alice standing at the end of the bed holding an unlit candle. Mesmerised, Ouma just stared at her, not saying a word. She watched as Alice walked towards her, not taking her eyes off her mother.
‘Mamma, please stop crying,’ Alice whispered quietly, ‘your tears are putting my candle out. I can’t see where I’m going’. Please Mamma, I need to light my candle’.
Ouma took her handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose. ‘I can still see her now,’ she shook her head. ‘She was so small. I wanted to reach out and touch her but she moved away, her little face staring up at me.’ I watched as a small flame appeared and her candle began to glow.’
Ouma stood up. ‘From that day to this I have tried not to shed tears for Alice but just carry the pain in my heart. I had to get back to looking after my family and working on the farm. My grief has never left me. I have just learnt to live with it. Ouma could not have made this story up! When I told my mother she said that the family had all heard about Alice.
I don’t believe in seances or simply trying to call up the dead for whatever reason. My brother, a vicar, has exorcised homes and believes that there are good and evil spirits. There are good and evil people so that would make sense! But, long may it continue that I never encounter ghosts! Good or evil! 👠
Jenny Burrell 