One July afternoon, my friend, Carol and I had gone to this farm for a picnic. We were sitting on a rock, eating our sandwiches, and I glanced up to see the shadowy silhouette of a woman. She stood in the door of the ruins, looking towards us and I thought she had the most peaceful smile on her face. She seemed to be looking right through us. She then turned and walked towards a nearby apple tree, stopped, and then seemed to evaporate into the background; it all seemed quite natural, calm and peaceful. I said nothing to Carol, thinking she would think I was crazy.
Carol seemed lost in thought as we got up to go home. As we climbed down the hill, she stopped and turned to face me, "I wonder who that old-fashioned looking lady at the farm is.." "I saw her too" I exclaimed, "but after she disappeared, I thought I was seeing things". We compared notes, and realized they had both seen exactly the same thing: A young woman, wearing a long dark dress, with a high neck and puffy sleeves, her long hair, parted in the middle and her slow peaceful smile, purposeful steps, pausing by the apple tree and then slowly evaporating into the background. We agreed not to tell anyone .. we would be teased unmercifully and be told that we had good imaginations and were "making up stories".
However, four weeks later, dad and I went to the orchard to pick pears, and I turned to him, ?Carol and I saw a lady up here last month, and she was dressed in old fashioned clothes. Dad looked surprised.. ?where did you see her?, he asked?.. I pointed to the apple tree. And...?what did she look like??, he persisted..
She was young, her hair was parted in the middle, and she wore a long dark dress.. Her hair was very long too, long past her shoulders..Dad looked thoughtful, "that's pretty strange you know, it sound like Mary Emery he who used to live on that farm, and she died last month". Further investigation proved that she had died the same day we had been picnicking at the farm. We also were told that Mary Emery had been born and lived all but the last 13 years of her life on the farm, which her father had built in 1875. When the government expropriated the land, she was heartbroken and often spoke of how much she missed her home.
Before she died in 1955, she had begged her family to take her 'back to her home one last time'. Knowing the farm lay in ruins, her family had refused her request, feeling she would be devastated if she knew the condition of her former home.
The above report was mailed to us from a reader...