I have always believed in angels,
and I believe mine is out there somewhere
but this story really brought tears.
I cried like a baby.
I know it's a little long,
but PLEASE read it.
It still gives me chills.
On July 22nd I was
enroute to Washington, DC for a business
trip. It was all so very ordinary, until we landed in
Denver for a plane change. As I collected my belongings from the
overhead bin, an announcement was made for Mr. Lloyd Glenn to see
the United Customer Service Representative immediately. I
thought nothing of it until I reached the door to leave theplane,
and I heard a gentleman asking every male if they were Mr. Glenn.
At this point I knew something was wrong and my heart sunk.
When I got off the plane a solemn-faced young man came
toward me and said, "Mr. Glenn, there is an emergency at
your home. I do not know what the emergency is, or who is
involved, but I will take you to the phone so you can call the
hospital."
My heart was now pounding, but the will to be calm took
over. Woodenly, I followed this stranger to the distant telephone
where I called the number he gave me for the Mission Hospital.
My call was put through to the trauma center where I
learned that my three-year-old son had been trapped underneath
the
automatic garage door for several minutes, and that when my
wife had found him he was dead.
CPR had been performed by a neighbor, who is a doctor, and
the paramedics had continued the treatment as Brian was
transported to the hospital. By the time of my call, Brian
was revived and they believed he would live, but they did not
know how much damage had been done to his brain, nor to his
heart. They explained that the door had completely closed
on his little sternum right over his heart. He had been
severely crushed. After speaking with the medical staff,
my wife sounded worried but not hysterical,
and I took comfort in her calmness.
The return flight seemed to last forever, but finally I arrived
at the
hospital six hours after the garage door had come down.
When I walked into the intensive care unit, nothing could have
prepared
me to see my little son laying so still on a great big bed with
tubes and
monitors everywhere.
He was on a respirator. I glanced at my wife who stood and tried
to give
me a reassuring smile. It all seemed like a terrible dream.
I was filled-in with the details and given a guarded prognosis.
Brian was going to live, and the preliminary tests indicated
that his heart was OK, two miracles in and of themselves.
But only time would tell if his brain received any damage.
Throughout the seemingly endless hours, my wife was calm.
She felt that Brian would eventually be all right. I hung
on to her words and faith like a lifeline.
All that night and the next day Brian remained unconscious.
It seemed like forever since I had left for my business
trip the day before. Finally at two o'clock that afternoon, our
son regained consciousness and sat up uttering the most
beautiful words I have ever heard spoken. He said, "Daddy
hold me" and he reached for me with his little arms.
[TEAR BREAK...smile]
By the next day he was pronounced as having no neurological
or physical deficits, and the story of his miraculous survival
spread throughout the hospital. You cannot imagine our
gratitude and joy. As we took Brian home, we felt a unique
reverence
for the life and love of our Heavenly Father that comes
to those who brush death so closely..
In the days that followed there was a special spirit about
our home. Our two older children were much closer to their
little brother. My wife and I were much closer to each
other, and all of us were very close as a whole family. Life took
on a less stressful pace. Perspective seemed to be more
focused, and balance much easier to gain and maintain.
We felt deeply blessed. Our gratitude was truly profound.
The story is not over (smile)!
Almost a month later to the day of the accident, Brian
awoke from his afternoon nap and said, "Sit down mommy. I
have
something to tell you." At this time in his life,
Brian usually spoke in
small phrases, so to say a large sentence
surprised my wife. She sat down with him on his bed,
and he began his sacred and remarkable story.
"Do you remember when I got stuck under the garage door?
Well, it was so heavy and it hurt really bad. I called to
you, but you couldn't hear me. I started to cry, but then it
hurt too bad. And then the 'birdies' came."
"The birdies?" my wife asked puzzled.
Yes," he replied. "The birdies made a whooshing sound
and flew into the garage. They took care of me."
"They did?"
"Yes," he said. "0ne of the birdies came and got
you. She came to tell
you I got stuck under the door."
A sweet reverent feeling filled the room. The spirit was so
strong
and yet lighter than air. My wife realized that a three-year-old
had no
concept of death and spirits, so he was referring to the beings
who came to him from beyond as"birdies"
because they were up in the air like birds that fly.
"What did the birdies look like?" she asked..
Brian answered, "They were so beautiful.
They were dressed in white, all white.
Some of them had green and white.
But some of them had on just white."
"Did they say anything?"
"Yes," he answered. "They told me the baby would
be all right."
"The baby?" my wife asked confused..
Brian answered. "The baby laying on the garage floor."
He went on, "You came out and opened the garage door
and ran to the baby. You told the baby to stay and not
leave."
My wife nearly collapsed upon hearing this, for she had
indeed gone and knelt beside Brian's body and seeing his
crushed chest whispered, "Don't leave us Brian, please
stay if you can." As she listened to Brian telling her the
words she had spoken, she realized that the spirit had left
his body and was looking down from above on this little lifeless
form.
"Then what happened?" she asked..
"We went on a trip." He said, "Far, far
away."
He grew agitated trying to say the things he didn't seem to
have the words for. My wife tried to calm and comfort him,
and let him know it would be okay. He struggled with
wanting to tell something that obviously was very
important to him, but finding the words was difficult.
"We flew so fast up in the air. They're so pretty
Mommy,"
he added. "And there are lots and lots of birdies."
My wife was stunned. Into her mind the sweet comforting
spirit enveloped her more soundly, but with an urgency
she had never before known.
Brian went on to tell her that the "birdies" had told
him
that he had to come back and tell everyone about the
"birdies."
He said they brought him back to the house and that a big
fire truck, and an ambulance were there. A man was
bringing the baby out on a white bed and he tried to tell
the man that the baby would be okay, but the man couldn't hear
him. He said the birdies told him he had to go with the
ambulance, but they would be near him. He said they were
so pretty and so peaceful, and he didn't want to come back.
Then the bright light came. He said that the light was so
bright and so warm, and he loved the bright light so much.
Someone was in the bright light and put their arms around
him, and told him, "I love you but you have to go back.
you have to play baseball, and tell everyone about the birdies.
"Then the person in the bright light kissed him and waved
bye-bye. Then woosh, the big sound came and they went
into the clouds.
The story went on for an hour. He taught us that
"birdies"
were always with us, but we don't see them because we
look with our eyes and we don't hear them because we
listen with our ears. But they are always there, you can
only see them in here (he put his hand over his heart).
They whisper the things to help us to do what is right
because they love us so much.
Brian continued, stating, "I have a plan, Mommy. You have
a plan. Daddy has a plan. Everyone has a plan. We must
all live our plan and keep our promises. The birdies help
us to do that cause they love us so much."
In the weeks that followed, he often came to us and told
all, or part of it, again and again. Always the story remained
the same. The details were never changed or out of order.
A few times he added further bits of information and
clarified the message he had already delivered. It never
ceased to amaze us how he could tell such detail and
speak beyond his ability when he talked about his birdies.
Everywhere he went, he told strangers about the
"birdies."
Surprisingly, no one ever looked at him strangely when he
did this. Rather, they always got a softened look on their
face and smiled.
Needless to say, we have not been the same ever since
that day, and I pray we never will be.
unknown writer
This story was sent to me
through e-mail a few months ago.
I don't know who is responsible for it but would love to know.
If you know who wrote this please let me know.
An Angel To Watch over You
Yesterday is history..
Tomorrow a mystery..
Today is a gift..
That's why it's called the present!
Live and savor every moment.....this is not a dress rehearsal!
 |
 |
