1. TEXT/TRANSCRIPTION
“So this is something my mom has always told me about, and she swears it really happened. She was really little, like, before she could even talk, and she was outside of her house in Massachusetts. And she says she saw a car drive by, and in the window, there was this ghost, just waving at her.
But the weirdest part? The ghost was green. Not just see-through or white or whatever, like the usual kind. It was glowing green, and she still remembers it so clearly. She always says it wasn’t a dream or anything, like, she genuinely believes it happened, and she’s told the story the same way my whole life. Every time she tells it, it’s like, dead serious.”
2. CONTEXT
“I honestly don’t know where she first told it, I think it just came up when I was a kid and we were talking about scary stuff or something. She’s told it more than once, but it’s always been the same. Like, no changes or anything.
It’s just one of those things she experienced and never forgot. And yeah, she couldn’t even talk yet, but she still remembers seeing that ghost in the car. I guess it just stuck with her. It’s kind of become one of those family stories, like weird, but kind of cool too.”
3. INTERPRETATION (my own analysis)
What I found most fascinating about this story was how vividly her mom remembered something from before she could even speak. It made me think about how certain moments, especially ones that feel emotionally or spiritually intense, can stick in our memory in a way that defies logic or age.
Even though this could just be written off as a childhood imagination or dream, her mom’s consistency and conviction over time gives it more weight. There’s also something symbolic about the ghost being green, unusual for ghost stories, which usually describe white or shadowy figures. The green glow adds a feeling of mystery or even peace, like the ghost wasn’t trying to scare her, just to be seen. The fact that it waved reinforces that feeling. It wasn’t aggressive or malevolent, it was a gesture of recognition or even friendliness.
I also think this story is a good example of how family folklore forms. It’s not something you’d read in a book, it’s personal and lived, passed down from a mother to a daughter. Stories like this build emotional bonds in families and become part of how people understand their own histories. Whether or not it’s “true” doesn’t really matter. What matters is that it meant something to her mom, and now, through the act of storytelling, it means something to AM (the initials of storyteller), and even to me as the listener.