Auset On…Dorothy’s Psychic Story

crumpled blanket in dark room at sunset
Photo by Mo on

This is the story my Mother Dorothy told me when I was a child. She was sitting on the edge of my bed, and the room was dark. I should have been asleep already. And, I remember that this time she wasn’t upset with me. She hadn’t caught me reading under the covers with my flashlight.

Her voice was soft and thoughtful. Now that I think of it to tell you, I realise I could live in that moment — when my Mother was warm and near me, and I was comfy in my bed, and her voice was so peaceful. It was quiet in that sweet, safe togetherness — and the kind soft sound of her voice was my whole world.

It’s a quick little story she told me. So, I’ll try to be quick in the telling of it. I can’t remember for you why she shared it with me. But, I think I’d confided in her about how my dreams came true, sometimes. And, I was little. So, it scared me. Was It another thing that made me too weird to know and be liked by other kids? Should I be scared of my dreams and extra lucky guesses? Would people even believe me? Would she believe me?

Here is what she told me.

“Oh, I believe you. They call that déjà vus or premonitions. You don’t have to be afraid of them. It’s okay. People do get them. And, they can be very helpful.”

I must have asked her, “How do you know? Do you get them, too?”

“No. Not really. Not that I can recall. But…there was this one time…that something happened to me. And it was very, very helpful. So that’s how I know.”

I waited in the silence. I could tell she was going to tell me, and I wanted to know.

I could barely see her, there wasn’t much light. But she was looking ahead — not down at me. She was looking far away. I remember thinking that if we were outside, her profile and her lovely dark skin would blend in beautifully with the night sky, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see the stars shining on her cheeks and eyes — as if she was part of the sky around her.

And in her gentle, sharing voice she said:

“I know it’s all right and coming from a good place because of what happened to me. I was playing. Back then we played in the street, a lot. We were playing stickball. I was ready to catch if the ball got hit near me.”

“And then a car was coming – and I was in the way. It was coming right for me. I froze. I was so scared! I couldn’t move. All of a sudden, I felt a hand on my back. It pushed me right out of the way. Right out of the way….”

“I felt that hand. Somebody pushed me hard and saved me. But there was nobody there. No one was even nearby. Maybe it was an Angel. Or a family member…. And, that’s how I know. These things do happen, and they are normal, and they can help us.”

I don’t remember much else about that moment together with my Mom. I think she smiled at me and tucked me in all the way. I like to think she kissed me good night one more time before she left my room. I do remember sleeping very well that night; and drifting off to sleep, seeing my Mom as a young girl like me, playing in the street.

After that, I didn’t feel so weird about my premonitions and lucky guesses. They were just interesting and sometimes helpful....

Telling you this reminds me of a piece of a poem. It’s by George Gordon, Lord Byron. I first read it years later when I was in Junior High School. As I read it I had an “Aha moment” as Oprah Winfrey calls it. My teacher would have been thrilled that poetry had clicked for me. Because, as I read the words and heard them in my head — I knew that George Gordon had described my Mother. As if he’d written these words just for, and exactly about her:

She walks in beauty like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies
And all that’s best of dark and light
Meet in her aspect and her eyes.


May your life be touched lovingly, by someone’s true beauty and their sharing.

May you touch someone’s life lovingly, with your true beauty and your sharing.


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