SO when I was much younger, in my early primary school days our school would always go to church on Friday mornings. We’d all pile out of the school and walk a block to the local church. Mind you, we lived in a small country town at the time so it was also the only church.
I remember that church fairly well. There were two priests and when one of them died, I remember attending the funeral at that church.
Fast forward some ten or 15 years or so.
I walked in to the office I shared with a colleague and asked if anyone could smell the frankincense. My colleague looked at me as if I was strange (fair enough), “no” she replied. “the boss just had an orange, and put his peel in your bin – is that what you can smell?”. Nope, it was definitely frankincense. I had to get out of there, the smell was so strong. I grabbed my coat and bag and headed out for lunch. I just felt like someone was watching me.
As I was crossing the street, I thought I saw a lady in a white dress walking in the middle of the road. When I turned to check she was okay, she was nowhere to be seen. In fact, there was no-one to be seen. I dismissed it and continued to find some lunch.
On my way back to the office, I noticed a car pulling up alongside me as I walking. I was a little nervous as there weren’t many people around but my nerves were calmed when I noticed that the card was full of elderly people. “Excuse me, do you know where the star of the sea church is?”. Unfortunately, I had seen it but could not remember where it was exactly. Odd I thought that they were comfortable to pull up and ask a complete stranger where this church was.
I felt odd all day. I couldn’t shake this feeling like someone was watching me and in fact, I felt so odd that when I got home, I mentioned that feeling to my mum.
Two weeks later.
Mum called me. She had been back to our old country town to visit friends. What she said next still gives me those goose bump tingles.
She said “you know how you felt like someone was watching you and that you saw the lady in the white dress and could smell frankincense and that car full of old people asked for directions to a church?”
“Yeah”, I replied
“Well, the other priest died that week.”
It was then that I realised he was with me that day. It was a priest in the white cloak, not a woman in a white dress. And the frankincense was the smell he used at the other priests funeral.
And to this day, I still get a taste or smell of frankincense when someone I know passes away.