People ask me all the time if I inherited my psychic abilities. I tell them my great, great grandmother was born with a veil, when the caul, which is part of the birth membrane, covered her face. It happens in 1 in 80,000 births and predicts psychic powers. Here’s one story I tell about my mother.
When I was eighteen, she insisted I enter the Miss Lebanon Valley Pageant, a precursor to Miss America. It’s a scholarship pageant, she said to my protests, so I pictured it in my mind. A talent portion, oh I loved to sing, and a swimsuit promenade into the audience. That put me into a panic since I had few curves at 5’7” and 110 pounds. It felt like a lost cause.
There were ten of us. After a short practice, a good luck telegram arrived from my gal pals, who I had begged not to come because I knew it was hopeless. Then the show. The top five pageant winners were called forward. I got held back, and willed time to pass quickly. After the pageant, one of the judges whispered that I had the best talent. I fed my humiliation with the thought.
That summer, Dad came home covered in joy. State Senator Clarence Manbeck, who provided the college scholarship, said none of the girls ahead of me wanted to attend. I had won two free years at Penn State.
Mom predicted a path I couldn’t see on my own. From a loser, I turned into a winner. You just never know.
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