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A Grain of Mustard – by Jeanne Gardner as told to Beatrice Moore

Then I heard a soft voice saying: "Trust and obey; there is no other way." I thought I was losing my mind. I couldn't believe what was happening. I found myself talking out loud.

 "What is this?" I asked in angry frustration. "Whoever you are, are you trying to tell me that my mother is leaving me?"

 Then I heard the voice again, this time saying: "I'll meet you in the sweet by-and-by."

 I put my head back on the pillows, tired, sad, and terribly confused. What did all this mean, and why was it happening to me? Then I remembered the message Bess had received: "On the fifth day it rolls off."

 This was the fifth day, and my mother's gift had been passed on to me. I closed my eyes, wondering as I did so if I could get through another day. After a few moments I had another vision. This time I saw myself ascending the steps of the hospital, but when I reached the top, I saw a face that was not familiar to me in the hospital setting. It was the face of a lady from Elkins whom I had known for a long time, but there was no reason, in my mind, for her to be in the hospital. I asked her what she was doing there, and she told me she had just been admitted for observation. I chatted with her briefly and walked on toward my mother's room. When I arrived at her room, I found a wreath on the door. Then the vision was gone.

I felt a strong compulsion to return to the hospital. I pulled myself together and set out for the hospital about nine o'clock that night. When I got there, I decided to walk the stairs, rather than take the elevator. At the top of the stairs, someone called out to me. I turned and saw the lady I had seen in the vision. I was startled. "What are you doing here, Mrs. Trahern?" I asked. And as the vision had indicated, she replied that she'd come in that day at four o'clock for observation.

In that moment I knew I would never see my mother again. I walked to Mama's room, and the doctor met me to tell me not to go inside. I will never forget Dr. Christie's kindness as he put his arm around my shoulder. Then, together, we stood in that hospital corridor and cried. My mother died on March 12, 1961, the day she had predicted that the family would suffer a shock, and she was buried on March 14, the day she had said we'd all be dressing up to go some place together. Little did we realize at that time that the family get-together would be her funeral.