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I received Christmas present from my dead mother and father last year. I realize how it sounds and believe me, as I tell the story over and over; I still feel the thrill of having had a real obvious paranormal experience.

It began with our preparations for our Christmas dinner. On my husband's side of the family there are forty people. On my side only my brother's two children and myself remain. My brother and my parents passed away and this was going to be a very difficult Christmas. My husband's family loves us very much and decided that they would spend Christmas together with us at our house.

My daughter and I decided to clean out a storage room and turn it into a bar. We took out the old boxes and as I removed the box with my mother's name on it, I decided to open it up and look inside. I knew that the old music box was there but I just couldn't look at it until that day. My mother had been put in a home because of her Alzheimer's disease. Her jewelry box had cookies crammed inside the music mechanism. It also had balled up tissues four buttons and two bobby pins and my father's harmonica neatly placed inside. My little 7 year old son asked if he could play Papair's (that's grandpa in slang French) harmonica. I said yes, but he had to sit right there on the couch and give it right back when he was done. He picked up the harmonica and he played a rendition of Hark The Herald Angel Sing.' This was the one and only song my father played on that Harmonica at Christmas. I can't even start to describe how shocked I was.

Meanwhile as my son continued to serenade us with the Christmas carol, I explained to my daughter that when I was a little girl, I used to wind up the music box and hum along with the song it play. I asked my son to stop a minute and I began to hum the haunting song of the music box. I didn't realize it but the lid had become unhinged from years of abuse and I dropped the entire music box on the floor trying to save the lid. The mirror that lined the back of the lid shattered and the bottom crashed right beside it. I cried out as I looked at the box on the floor. When I bent over to pick it up, it began to play the song. The impact had cleared out the smashed cookies. I gave it a little shake while it was still upside down and to my greatest surprise, a beautiful gold bracelet swung back and forth from inside the music box mechanism. My mother's name was engraved on it. I cried that day, tears I had held inside all year.

It wasn't until that night that everything was summed up and it became quite clear that none of this had happened by accident. My daughter and I had picked up the pieces of broken mirror and placed them beside the music box on her dresser. Suddenly I heard my daughter shout, "Ma, you've gotta come and see this." As I walked into the room my daughter was seated on her bed and was pointing at the ceiling. I looked up and there, as if written in white paint, was the message; HELLO FOR YOU'. My first reaction was to go touch the writing to see if it was paint or chalk, but my fingers started to blank out the reflection. It was the broken mirror pieces together with the dresser light that cause the message to reflect on the ceiling. Without touching it, I called for my husband to come see it. We all agreed that this was my parents' way of saying Merry Christmas.

Learn more about this author, Gabe Willows.
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