I am not a Newfoundlander, I am from Montreal of a long line of French Canadians. I first heard of the Old Hag when reading a friend’s Downhome magazine and realized that I used to get visits from her all the time as a child.
I never saw her but I always felt like someone was there watching me.
I would open my eyes, and that was all I could do. I could not move, I could not speak. I would spend what felt like an eternity (I still have no clue how much time would pass)  trying to speak. It would start with quiet little moans that turned into quiet ‘Mom’s that eventually worked up to MOOOOOMMMMMMY! And my mother would come running.
Of course by the time my mother arrived, the Hag was gone and I could move normally.
My mother never commented on any superstitions, or told me it’s normal, she just said it was a nightmare and told me to go back to sleep.
I wonder if I would have been more or less terrified if I had known about the Old Hag.
Francine Coursolle