My great-grandmother lived alone in a small house where my Grandfather (her son) was born. One of her other sons, my granduncle lived next door to her.
In the late 1950's, a massive tornado swept through the small town, destroying my grandfather's entire farm. During the storm, my great-grandmother thought she should go next door to my granduncle's house to seek refuge in the basement.
As she was heading out, she felt a tug on her dress. Grandma turned around but no one was there. So, she turned the doorknob and opened the door. Once again, she felt a tug on her dress. My grandmother was sure nobody was there. Being a very religious woman, she got down on her knees and began to pray.
Suddenly there was a loud crash outside. Grandma looked out the door to see a giant tree that had toppled over on the sidewalk where she would have been walking on if that “someone” hadn't kept her from walking out the door.
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