WE ARE NEVER ALONE!!!
This is a true story that occurred in 1994 and is told by Lloyd Glen:
Throughout our lives we are blessed with spiritual experiences, some
of which are very sacred and confidential, and others, although
sacred, are meant to be shared.
Last summer my family had a spiritual experience that had a lasting
and profound impact on us, one we feel must be shared. It's a message
of love. It's a message of regaining perspective, and restoring
proper balance and renewing priorities. In humility, I pray that I
might, in relating this story, give you a gift my little son, Brian,
gave our family one summer day last year.
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 the plane
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.
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.
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.
"One 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 alright." "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 and
recognizable features, knowing he was already dead, she looked up
around her and 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 is 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 spoke of 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.