This page is where we will publish your wonderful stories that you submit to us. If you have one you would like to share, please email me and let me know.
Here's a great one from our friend Michelle in New Mexico:
In February of 1993, my husband, young daughter and I were living in a new mobile home on a lot in Bernalillo, New Mexico. We had never been fully comfortable there even though our surroundings were brand new and the yard was really lovely. At the time both my husband and I commuted to Santa Fe which is 45 minutes from Bernalillo. Our work schedules didn't always mesh so it wasn't unusual for us to leave at 6:30 a.m. and return home close to 9:00 p.m. One night after a typical spousal argument over household chores we both went to sleep. I had said a small prayer to God asking him to please help me put the dishes away as I was really tired and just couldn't do it. Then there was a loud, and I mean loud bang in our kitchen. My husband screamed and I got up running to check on everything. What I found in our kitchen still raises the hair on my arms. I found all of the dishes from the strainer stacked neatly on my counter with a knife and fork making a cross in the center.
Two days following the above incident I was washing a pair of my husband's jeans. They were the ones he would wear to unload trucks for Firestone. They had lots of holes in them from batteries that were being returned for recycling. I threw them into the washer, added fabric softener and went about my business. Then into the dryer. When I took all of the clothes from the dryer and was hanging them up, I couldn't find the pants with holes. Everything was accounted for but his pants did not have holes anymore. They didn't look brand new but they did look as if they had never been damaged.