A Real Story of Signs From the Universe: Chocolate Cake for Breakfast

There are moments when the line between the physical and the unseen feels paper-thin. You ask a question into the quiet, and somehow — through timing too perfect to explain — you get an answer. Not as lightning or trumpets, but as something ordinary, softened by grace.

When You Ask the Universe for a Sign

A few years after my sister passed, I asked her for a sign. I wanted it to come from our favorite movie, Practical Magic. I assumed it might be one of the songs from the soundtrack, or maybe I’d meet someone with a familiar character’s name. Something cinematic and obvious.

Instead, it was better.

A few days later, my parents came for dinner. My mom brought brownies but used too much flour, so they rose into what she called “basically a chocolate cake.” No one ate them that night. It was snowing, they left early, and the pan sat untouched on the counter.

The Morning Everything Aligned

The next morning, I woke before my daughters — something that never happened in that era of small children and sleepless nights. The house was quiet. Snow still fell outside. I crept downstairs, cut a piece of that makeshift cake, and took the first bite while the world felt suspended. I thought, When was the last time I had dessert for breakfast?

And there it was. The line.
“In this house, we have chocolate cake for breakfast.”

It was a quote from Practical Magic, the one we used as an inside joke, but never shared with anyone else. I’d asked for a sign, and she’d delivered it — clear, specific, perfect.

Later that night, I told my best friend about it. She went silent, her voice tight when she finally said, “I haven’t given you your Christmas gift yet… it’s a framed picture of a chocolate cake with that exact quote.”

It’s hard to argue with the universe when it answers twice.

How Signs Speak in the Ordinary

Since then, I’ve stopped looking for signs that fit what I expect. The magic usually hides in what we overlook — the timing of a song, a phrase on a billboard, a recipe, a bird landing exactly when you think of someone. These aren’t coincidences; they’re reminders that love doesn’t stop at the edge of what we can measure.

If you’ve asked for a sign and are still waiting, pay attention to what repeats. What catches your breath. The world is more alive than we give it credit for, and sometimes it’s whispering in a language only you and the person you miss can understand.

Learning to Trust the Messages You Receive

If this kind of connection speaks to you, Signs by Laura Lynne Jackson is a beautiful place to start — it’s full of stories that make you feel less alone in believing.

Love doesn’t end — it learns new ways to be seen, to remind us that nothing sacred ever truly leaves.