|Stories my father told me|
by Michael Bianco
|This is supposed to be a true story. Itís about a haunted house.|
Once upon a time in the town of Sersale lived a woman who was very poor. She had
small children and kept a small house with a husband who worked very hard but seemed to
always be down on his luck. Their existence was meager at best and with the little
ones she found it hard to collect enough wood to keep the fires going. Her capital
sin was that one day she used the yoke from the oxen as fire wood. Of course without
this yoke, they could no longer till the fields, so this was a terrible thing. Her family
felt the sin was unforgiveable.|
Her excuse for burning the yoke was that she could never leave the house to collect wood, so that her punishment in turn was that even after she died she could not leave the house, and would never see any peace.
Time passed, and the descendants who lived in the house were troubled, and began to feel sorry for her. They knew that her restless, unhappy spirit was still present. Finally they all decided that they would gather all the good women of the town and even some of the men to pray for this unhappy soul stuck in that little house. They prayed continuously day and night for God to forgive her and grant her peace. After a long while, and the presence of many good fervent souls, as they knelt and prayed the door mysteriously opened and they could feel a cool breeze gush through the door. Then the door closed. they felt that she found her peace after paying the price for so many years. There were never any strange noises in that house at night again.
My uncle claimed to be one of the men that witnessed the whole event.