Two Years after Son Dies, Mom Hears Someone Knocking on Door Saying, “Mom, It’s Me”

“After losing her son in an awful tragedy two years before, a woman heard someone knock on her door and call her ‘mom’ one bright morning. Before we continue, please take some time to subscribe to ‘Beyond the Ordinary,’ like and share this video with your friends; it might brighten their day and inspire them to do good.

Time of death: 12 o’clock P.M. That was the exact time Jane and Sean Wiley lost their only child, John. He had been rushed to the hospital straight from his school after he got stung by multiple bees and went into anaphylactic shock. He had disturbed a budding bee’s hive on the school grounds, and the offended creatures had visited their wrath upon him at the cost of their own lives and to his detriment.

When Jane and her husband were called, the couple was in the middle of trying to make John a sibling. The news had been like a splash of cold water on their ardor, and they dressed mechanically before leaving for the hospital.

“Miss Wiley, I’m afraid I have bad news. Your son was involved in a terrible accident and has been transferred to the hospital,” the school principal told her. The worried parents arrived just as the doctors gave up on trying to save their boy. As the doctor exited the ER, Jane ran up to him and grasped him.

“You need to go back in there and keep trying,” she exclaimed, shaking him violently. Her husband was by her side in a flash, dragging her off the man and doing his best to hold himself together simultaneously. “It’s done, Jane,” he said, tears in his eyes as he looked towards his dead son’s body.

That tragedy shook the couple, and it took the better part of a year for them to clean out his room. Even then, Jane would tear up each time the topic came up. Her husband fared better, but he also lost a part of himself due to grief. Two years after the ghastly incident, Jane heard someone knock on the door, and when she asked who it was, she heard a child’s voice say, “Mom, it’s me.”

Jane knew it could not be her child, but she rushed to open the front door anyway. Nobody was there, but she noticed a small envelope addressed to her and her husband. She looked down, “Did I imagine that?” she wondered. “No, someone must have been here because this letter didn’t drop from Heaven.” She looked around once more for anything out of the ordinary, but when nothing else turned up, she picked up the envelope and returned inside.

Inside the envelope was a note with the name of a street: 813 Atwood Avenue. “What is that?” her husband asked, and suddenly Jane opened her eyes. It had been a dream, a vivid one Jane knew had to mean something. As soon as her eyes flew open, she scrambled for a pen and paper to write down the address.

The following day, Jane went to the grocery store. The activity used to be something she and her late son would do together; it was quite enjoyable for her then. Now it was just a chore she wanted to get through quickly. As she browsed the aisles briskly with her shopping cart, Jane caught sight of something peculiar. There was a large flyer advertising the services of a children’s clothing store, and on it, someone had scribbled the same address she had dreamed of: 813 Atwood Avenue.

It struck her as odd that she would come across the address just after having a dream about it. So, she returned home to confide in her husband. “I had a dream last night,” she told him when they sat down for dinner. “What was it about?” he asked. She told him about the knock she heard and the child’s voice, then about the address and how she came upon it again in the grocery store.

“That’s certainly something, but I don’t think it’s cause for concern, do you?” “Absolutely not. I just think I’ll feel better when I know more about that address because to me, that dream felt like a premonition,” Jane confessed. Her husband was skeptical, but he supported her. “Alright, sweetheart, we can do some research after dinner,” he told her.

When the dishes were cleared and cleaned, the couple sat behind their desktop for some investigative work. They searched for the address on the internet and found that it was linked to foster care. More research revealed the kids the orphanage had in its care at the time. Among them, one stood out to Jane, so she and her husband drove there to meet him the following morning.

“His name is Simon,” the founder told them. “He lost his parents in a car crash and has autism, which makes him very difficult to be with. In fact, he barely speaks to anyone but his imaginary friend, and he is hell-bent on picking his adoptive family himself.”

“What does that mean?” Jane asked, curious. “It means Simon is the one doing the adopting here, not you two.” “Oh, we are not here to—” Sean had started saying, but a quick jab from his wife silenced him. “We would like to meet this boy,” Jane said.

As soon as they entered the room and Jane set eyes on Simon, she understood why she had the dream. The boy needed a home. The orphanage founder, who introduced herself as Mia Cochran, excused them so they could spend time alone with the child. As soon as she left, Simon looked up from the toys he had been playing with and spoke.

“My friend says you are good people and that he does not want you to be alone anymore.” His words shocked Jane and Sean. “Your friend?” Sean asked. “Yes, my friend. Do you not believe me as well?” Simon asked. “We do, honey,” Jane started to say. “John,” Simon said, shutting her off completely. “He said to say his name is John.”

It was all the couple needed. They started the adoption process that very day, and within the week, Simon was installed in John’s former room. And that was how Jane’s late son helped her meet her new one. One day, Jane heard a knock on the door again and heard a voice saying, “Mom, it’s me.” But this time, it was not a dream; it was her Simon returning from school.”