Fifty Years a Medium – Chapter 2, 3/14 by Estelle Roberts

I did so, and we discussed my spirit people and their voices. I told her there had been many times when I had feared that I was suffering from hallucinations, so strongly had this idea been implanted in my mind as a child by my father. Even now, I could not bring myself to believe her when she declared that she knew beyond all doubt that I was a medium.

I asked her for proof of her words, proof by some happening that was entirely outside my mind and unconnected with myself in any way. Only in such circumstances could I be convinced of her faith in me and the mystic work she said that lay ahead of me. Only then would I feel that I could go into the world and say with conviction, “I know.”

She readily conceded my point and said: “Go home and sit at a table. I am confident they will make physical contact with you.”

I did as I was bid. I went straight home and sat alone at a table, expectant and apprehensive. Nothing happened that night, or on any of the next six nights when I repeated the procedure. I just sat there, silent and solitary, until I began to feel more than a little foolish. The table did not so much as wobble. I decided to have one final session. I sat again the next night and the result was exactly as before. When I could stand it no longer I got up in disgust,

telling myself that other people might be mediums, but I certainly was not. I picked up the table and carried it across the room to its accustomed place by the opposite wall. It was a solid table, with tripod legs, and it required considerable effort for me to lift it. “Well, that’s that,” I thought. “I shall not be so easily persuaded the next time.”

I turned and began to walk away. As I did so, the table rose into the air and hit me firmly in the back. I stood momentarily in astonishment, and then ran in panic to the far end of the room.

The table pursued me inexorably, within inches of my back. When I stopped, it stopped, too, returning to the floor with a thump.

After the first shock had subsided, I immediately realized that this was proof of the existence of a power outside myself that I had demanded, and with this realization came a reaction of intense gratitude. Turning around, I put one hand on the table and said, “Thank you, whoever you are.”