Fifty Years a Medium – Chapter 11, 8/12 by Estelle Roberts

I sent a copy of this spirit message to the old Blackburn address, but my letter came back with the envelope marked “Gone away.” I was disappointed that Mrs. Manning’s family could not have the mother’s message. Then, to my surprise, I received a letter from another address in Blackburn. It was written by a Mrs. J. Smith, who described herself as a daughter of Mrs. Manning. Someone had seen a printed reference I had made to her mother’s return and had sent Mrs. Smith a copy of it.

“I am her youngest daughter,” she wrote. “My sister and I are the only remaining ones of the family on this earth. I can’t tell you the joy and gladness the message gave me. I felt I wanted to run out and tell the world. Instead of which I sat down and cried. I felt humble and ashamed that I had begun to doubt and despair that I would ever hear of that beloved person again.”

Her mother, she added, had suddenly died without the chance to say farewell. She was alone when she had a seizure. By the time the daughters reached her side, it was too late for their mother to speak.

“It was a cruel blow, for, with her passing, the sunshine of life went,” wrote Mrs. Smith. Years had dragged on and she was beginning to despair. Now she had received the answer to her prayers. “It is the grandest thing that can ever happen to me,” was her summing-up.

There is an amusing sequel to the Bessy Manning story which Barbanell does not mention in his book but which I have many times heard him tell against himself. As examples of superb spirit proofs and of direct answer to prayer, he recounted the case of Bessy Manning in the scores of his lectures up and down the country.

It was never omitted because it was the perfect case. At last, reluctantly, he decided that for his own sake, because he had wearied of its constant repetition, he must delete it and refer to newer material.

After the first meeting at which he introduced the changed matter, he was approached by a women whose face seemed vaguely familiar. But where had he met her? A public lecturer meets thousands of people in the course of over thirty years.
“Do you remember me?” the woman asked.

Barbanell looked at her again but had to confess that he could not place her.
“I’m Mrs. Manning,” the woman said, adding disappointedly, “I thought you would have told them about my Bessy.”