When I was growing up I used to live by an old church and grave yard thats a couple hundred years old. Every day the bell would ring at 6pm. When I used to play out in the back yard of my home when I was maybe 5 or 6 years of age and when the bell would ring, figures would begin to appear in my yard. Same figure every day doing the exact same thing. There was a skinny old man in rags that would walk towards the back wall and vanish thought it, a young women that was crouched down that looked to be shrouding a baby on the ground and a little boy that just ran around in circles skipping and playing. I hadn't thought about that memory in over 30 years until just now but its still crystal clear. It all kind of just stopped after awhile, I don't really recall what age I was and I was never really scared or freaked out. I never felt threatened, only the boy would acknowledge me and all he did was smile at me. My parents used to just say I'd an over active imagination.