Beth: "Doesn’t he ever wonder where the candy came from?"

Jimmy: "No, I think in Matthew’s world candy elves are a common occurrence."

Newsradio

FT129: My daughter drew my attention to the article on Charles Bonnet Syndrome, "Phantom Cows and Little People" [FT125:14]. During my thirties, 20 years ago, I had many encounters with angels, little people, unseen chairs, sweet-smelling non-existent flowers etc over a period of about eight years. All these experiences were uplifting, joyful and often humorous, but also puzzling. The visions began suddenly but faded only gradually from my life. I missed them when they went and have incorporated many of the images into my paintings.

Occasionally now I catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye, always when least expected. In early September 1999 as I walked through a graveyard, a trapdoor in the grass slammed noisily shut as I passed. I am pleased to know that other people are willing to admit to similar experiences and that it has a name. Liz Silk, Wellingborough, Northamptonshire.

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FT133: In 1970 I was an eight-year-old girl in a family of four, and together with my parents, an aunt, an uncle and a servant girl called Aida, we lived in a big wooden house in the Philippines with my maternal grandparents.

One evening around Easter, we were all invited over by my paternal grandparents who lived nearby. As grandpa was having bouts of sinusitis, he stayed behind, along with his wife and Aida. After a while grandpa came over, panting and visibly shaken. He told us to come home at once as something strange was happening to Aida.

We hurried back amidst a slight shower, accompanied by some other relatives. Aida and my grandmother were huddled in the middle of the house, hugging each other. Our 17-year-old servant girl was crying hysterically. She came from a poor family in a faraway village and had been with us for about three years. She was short, dark and chubby, with very shiny white teeth. She was also tough and very determined, not easily scared. All of us children adored her.

Grandpa pointed to the stones forming a circle around the two women. He said it started half an hour earlier when, out of nowhere, stones came rolling towards Aida. Black and smooth, mostly about 1 inch (2.5cm) in diameter and with varying oval shapes, they stopped a few inches from her feet. Just then, Aida screamed as another stone came rolling across the shiny wooden floor. All of us children became equally frightened and some started crying. All the doors were closed and all the windows screened. Behind the house were tropical trees and acres of paddy fields. There was no possible entry.

The stones kept rolling, following Aida wherever she went. They came from different directions and time intervals, as if the thrower were playing with us. I will never forget the sound of them rolling on the wooden floor. Gradually overcoming our fright, we children started to collect the stones in a vase. There were none like them in our neighbourhood. They were warm to the touch, and dry. Had they been thrown from the street outside they would have been wet from the rain. The adults checked the house, and a neighbour let one of his hired hands go up into the ceiling to investigate, but he came back empty-handed.

That night, Aida slept on the floor of my grandparents’ room, too scared to stay on her own. All through the night we could hear the stones rolling and Aida’s occasional whimper. In the morning, the mosquito net under which she slept was surrounded by stones. Nothing happened during the day, but the stones resumed rolling at sunset, as they did for the next two weeks.

As Easter approached only about 10 stones appeared nightly, compared to the 20 or 30 previously. Many people came and asked for a stone or two, thinking they were from out of this world and would bring them luck. Being Catholic my family held daily prayer meetings and the local parish priest blessed the house. He was convinced that evil spirits were at work.

Then my mother met an old wise man in the market place, and told him of the phenomena. He said that Aida was being befriended by a playful gnome who wanted to attract her attention. Such creatures were invisible and usually harmless. To stop the stones, he advised that salt be spread outside the house at sunset. Reasoning that she had nothing to lose, my mother followed his instructions. She and my aunt started at the bottom of the front stairs and spread salt in opposite directions until they met at the back of the house. Much to everyone’s relief, the stones stopped appearing. Aida stayed with us for another two years and then moved to the city, taking with her a few of the stones that for two weeks made her life something to be remembered by all who knew her. Darcy Frederiksen, Tripoli, Libya.

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 FT137: I am researching a book on Elementals – creatures from a different sphere of existence, commonly referred to as fairies, elves, leprechauns etc. Among the stories I have collected is one from David, a perfectly normal sober man. He was walking along a river bank one sunny afternoon, leading two horses back to his stables, when he heard a distinct voice coming from the stream. Looking down, he saw a tiny man (about a foot high) standing on a stone in the water, dressed in trousers, boots and shirt, remarking in an ordinary voice that there had been no fishing that morning. He talked about the rain, hoping it would be better the next day, and asked how they were expected to survive without good fishing. He added that he shouldn’t complain as he wasn’t as badly off as some of the others. David watched him turn round as if looking out for something, but the moment he made eye contact with the entity it vanished. The horses were disturbed and remained agitated until they were back in their stables. Please write and tell me if you have had any similar encounters. Mary Harrison, 12 Thirlestane Road, Northampton NN4 8HD, England.

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 FT137: Until 1939 when I was 10 my family and I lived in a Victorian terrace in Stewkley, near Leighton Buzzard, before moving to my present address in the same village. Opposite the terrace (now demolished) was – and still is – a large house with grounds. The field separating the house from the road was laid out as a small "gentleman’s park" with clumps of trees of various sorts.

One evening – it must have been autumn or winter because it was dark – there came the sound of hammering from high up a pine tree: three hits, hammer laid down, three more hits, and so on. My father mended shoes, so I know what it sounded like.

All the inhabitants of the terrace were out listening, the people from the big house and their servants and probably others as well. The owner of the big house shone a torch up the tree and called out "Who’s there? What are you doing? Stop it!" and things like that, but the sounds continued. They occasionally stopped briefly and then began again. My parents said it lasted for over an hour; to me as a child, it seemed endless. Then it ceased and, as far as I’m aware, never came again, but as I say, we moved so I can’t be sure.

A year or two ago, I met a woman who was something of an expert on folklore. I told her about the hammering and she said it was a working Brownie, a fairy shoemaker. "There are a lot of reports of that sort of thing," she said. I’ve never believed in fairies, but it couldn’t have been somebody doing it for a joke – what, up a pine tree in the dark? There were plenty of other trees easier to climb – beech, lime, horse chestnut. And at that date it couldn’t have been a tape recording. Moaning and howling round haystacks in a bedsheet to scare folk, that would be the peak of invention in a village before the war. Mr J Keen, Leighton Buzzard, Bedfordshire.

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 FT143: As we drove home after visiting my in-laws in Hannastown, Greensburg, Pennsylvania, one day in the summer of 1998, something flew in front of our van. It was dark, after 9pm, and I was using the high beams so I could see any deer if they tried to cross the road. A few bugs could be seen heading towards the headlights of our mini van, then I and my wife saw what appeared to be a Barbie doll with insect wings. We had a good look at it for two to three seconds before it disappeared in front of the van. We were travelling about 50mph (80km/h) so there was not much we could do but wait for the thud of it hitting the grill – but the sound never came. I pulled over and checked the grill, but found nothing. I looked at my wife and joked "I think we just ran over Tinkerbell".

I have seen many a locust in my time and I don’t believe this was one; neither do I think it was a grasshopper. It had florescent wings that were oddly coloured. It was maybe just smaller than a Barbie. I have two girls so I know what a Barbie looks like. Martin Garcia (by email).