A Psychic Medium Show

I don’t know what to believe about psychics and mediums, but I recently went to a psychic/medium “show.” I truly didn’t expect to communicate with deceased loved ones, or even angels as it was promoted, though I wasn’t averse to doing so either. I waver on the line between skeptic and believer. However, I had passed the anniversary of the death of my son the day before so there was a certain consciousness of death being present around me.

            Arthur was waiting seated before an assembly of a few attendees when I entered, talking casually about his profession. Eventually when the seats were filled he began a description of how he came to be a psychic/medium and told anecdotes about accurate predications he had made and verifiable spirits with whom he had communicated. Lots of jokes gave it the feeling of an entertainment, which it was.

            In the next part of the show he came to each of us in turn to give a reading. He said that he might be getting messages for anyone at anytime. Even though he might be talking to another individual, if what he was saying seemed to fit someone you knew who had passed on, you should raise your hand.

            As Arthur did with each of us, when it was my turn he took my hand. He crouched down to look at me – I was sitting on the floor – and described a child’s game, the cup and string telephone. I looked at him and shook my head. Then he suggested simply, “The Little Rascals?” I shrugged my shoulders. “Yes, we watched The Little Rascals…” Behind me a woman’s arm shot up. As she did several other times that evening, she said she thought the message was for her.

            Arthur came back to me after talking with the woman, giving her a message from Uncle Joe, or whomever. I gave him my other hand jokingly, suggesting that that one might work better. He stood and holding my right hand, looked off into the distance before saying to me directly, “I see a lot of criticism around you when you were growing up…. it stunted you.” Then, “You have trouble expressing emotions – not angry or mad – but expressing your feelings to other people… you should say what you mean and mean what you say.”

            He talked to everyone in a general way about how children are damaged, by their families mostly. Then he gave me one last message: a prediction. “I see you in a black church, with black people singing. It’s very excited singing, they have their hands in the air.” I nodded my head as he spoke. “I bought tickets!” I told him. I had a day or so before bought tickets for a performance of Neshana Carlebach with the Pleasant Fields Baptist Choir. The choir is from the Bronx and they are all black.

            Last night, I went to the concert and joined the choir in singing joyfully and raising my arms above my head.

            I have been thinking about what Arthur said, about my childhood and my trouble expressing emotions. It had truth to it. And I have been wondering about the toy cup telephone and The Little Rascals and what else would have been said if I hadn’t been so wary, so skeptical. Is it possible it actually could have been the beginning of a communication from a nine-year-old boy?