While I was in the midst of doing something very important, I got a call on my unpublished line from an hysterical woman telling me not to get mad at the person who’d given her my phone number.
In the first place when you get a call from someone who’s crying uncontrollably, the first thing you think is that something is wrong with someone in your own family especially when they say something like he told me not to call you but I had too. Lord, that’ll get your blood rushing.
So, here I am with adrenaline flying, set to flee to my home state to take care of the family member who warned this woman not to tell me something was wrong with them when she finally fesses up and tells me that it’s someone I don’t know. Oh, and here’s the clincher, my mother gave this man my phone number and he passed it on to this panic-stricken woman after meeting me for a night of personal psychic instruction, all to please, you guessed it, my mother.
As soon as I told the woman that I was in the middle of something quite important, she said, “Oh, sorry honey,” and promptly hung up.
Concentration broken, I marched around incensed for a few minutes then called the woman back. Caller ID. You have to love it.
When she finally answered the phone, I asked, “You said your husband was lost. Does that mean he’s dead?”
Being the very nice lady she is she proceeded to tell me that I didn’t need to call back, she was so sorry.
That’s when I told her that I found out a long time ago that I can’t help the whole world and if I tried to answer every person who needed me then I’d never have time for me, hence the unpublished number, but I also was going to take the time for her because she had come to my attention. You see I feel I need to help as many in need as I can.
After trying to help her as much as I could I gave her one last piece of advice. Call the guy that gave you my number and tell him to get his, I can say body, can’t I, down to your home and give you the hug you need along with companionship that I can’t give you right now. Do you think I was bad?
Now back to my work.
P. S. She’d read my book, www.ghoststalk.com .