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

“A time of death: 1:20 p.m.” That was the exact time Linda and Michael lost their only child, Emily. She had been rushed to the hospital straight from her school after she got stung by multiple bees and went into anaphylactic shock. Emily had disturbed a budding beehive on the school grounds, and the offended creatures had visited their wrath upon her at the cost of their own lives and to the detriment of hers.

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

Miss Davidson, I’m afraid I have bad news. Your daughter 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 girl. As the doctor exited the ER, Linda ran up to him and grasped him.

You need to go back in there and keep trying,” she exclaimed while 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, Linda,” he croaked, tears in his eyes as he looked towards his dead daughter’s body.

That tragedy shook the couple, and it took the better part of a year just for them to clean out her room. Even then, Linda 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, Linda heard someone knock on the door.

When she asked who it was, she heard a child’s voice say, “Mom, it’s me.” Linda 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 when 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: “8113 Atwood Avenue.” “What is that?” Michael asked. Suddenly, Linda opened her eyes. It had been a dream, a vivid one. Linda knew it 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, Linda went to the grocery store. The activity used to be something she and her late daughter 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, Linda 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 dreamt of: “8113 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, the childish 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?” he asked. “Absolutely not,” Linda replied. “I just think I’ll feel better when I know more about that address because to me, that dream felt like a premonition.” Linda confessed her husband was skeptical, but he supported her. “All right, sweetheart. We can do some research after dinner,” he told her.

When the dishes were cleared and clean, they 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 Linda. So she and her husband drove there to meet her the following morning. “Her name is Sarah,” the founder told them. “She lost her parents in a car crash and has autism, which makes her very difficult to be with. In fact, she barely speaks to anyone but her imaginary friend, and she is hellbent on picking her adoptive family herself.”

“What does that mean?” Linda asked, curious. “It means Sarah is the one doing the adopting here, not you two.” “Oh, we are not here to—” Michael had started saying, but a quick jab from his wife silenced him. “We would like to meet this girl,” Linda said. As soon as they entered the room and Linda set eyes on Sarah, she understood why she had the dream. The girl 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, Sarah looked up from the toys she had been playing with and spoke. “My friend says you are good people and that he does not want you to be alone anymore,” her words shocked Linda and Michael. “Your friend?” Michael asked. “Yes, my friend. Do you not believe me as well?” Sarah asked. “We do, honey,” Linda started to say, “Emily,” Sarah said, shutting her off completely. “He said to say his name is Emily.” It was all the couple needed. They started the adoption process that very day, and within the week, Sarah was installed in Emily’s former room.

And that was how Linda’s late daughter helped her meet her new one. One day, Linda 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 Sarah returning from school.