Last Saturday, my friend Carmen left my house with my aunt to run errands. We were having a barbecue at my house, with my family there. After Carmen bought what she needed, they stopped at my grandmother's house. My aunt talked to a few neighbors, went in the house to get what she needed, then they got in the car and left. As the car was leaving, Carmen saw a man looking out the window of my grandmother's house--just standing there and waving. She described the man, (whose descriptions by the way fit those of my grandfather--this friend has never seen my grandfather before), Carmen told my aunt what happened and my aunt drove around the block past the house again and asked "What window?? What window??" Carmen showed them the window, but the man was gone. No one was home at that house--because everyone was at my house for the cookout. I know that Carmen saw my grandfather's ghost. Carmen later on commented "Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me" I felt sad to hear her say that because it made me wonder if she was afraid--to see an angel as well. I wanted an angel to meet her. So, I prayed to the Divine One to bring an angel to Carmen--to let her meet an angel, so that she will know that she is NEVER alone in life. That her struggles aren't made with her alone and abandoned. I wanted her to feel God's love through meeting that angel. After I made that prayer, my heart smiled. I felt happy--I didn't feel sad or worried. I just felt that my prayers were received.
Yesterday before 12pm (EST) my family and I took my friend Carmen and my godchild to the bus station to go back to NYC. Their bus was to arrive at 4:10pm. We got to the bus station, and Carmen almost missed that bus, because everyone had already boarded the bus--and my father spoke to the bus driver and found out that they had one seat left--so he waved Carmen and us over-- The poor girl was so tired, she was trying to find something in her bag, and could barely zip up her bag. Everyone was waiting for her. I'm holding the baby and finally she gives up and a Greyhound employee zips up the bag for her and checks it under the bus. We say our goodbyes-- and I say goodbye to them and they got on the bus.
Usually, if I drop someone off, I tend to leave right after they get on the bus. But this time, I stayed behind and watched Carmen looking for her seat. Carmen looked up and I waved to her. She signed the I LOVE YOU sign to me--but I couldn't see that--I could only see her figure, so I kept waving and smiling. I was feeling kinda of teary-eyed but at the same time I felt happy because something in my heart told me that she and my godchild are going to be safe.
Later on in the night, I called Carmen to see how her trip went. And I found this out:
When Carmen got on the bus, she was looking and looking for a seat--she went to the back but something told her to go to the front. That's when she moved to the front and looked out the window and saw me, and I was waving to her. When I was waving to her on the bus, she signed I LOVE YOU but I didn't see her, (I was still waving to her), then right in front of her was an empty seat next to an old Black woman with sky blue eyes. The woman was holding a little book called "Angels Speak". The woman could feel Carmen's tiredness, nervousness and how she was going through a lot of stress in her life. They talked. Carmen had a sense that this woman knew how she felt and the vibes she felt from this woman was very comforting. She felt loved and understood while she's talking to the lady. The lady told her about her family and Carmen told the lady about hers.
The bus got to Delaware and there was a storm. There was a twister (tornado) in front of the bus--the bus started to shake violently from side to side. And since Carmen was in the front, she could see the twister that was in front of them. Scared--she prayed and prayed. Then she looked up at the sky--and noticed that the woman was looking in the same direction that she was looking. The woman turned to her and said "It will be alright" and she was very calm. The bus driver was able to get out of the storm and get the bus under control again. Everything was calm again-- The old lady turned to Carmen and said, "Carmen, (she knew her name and Carmen never told her her name), my name is Elizabeth. I am finished with this book, my job is done. Now its your turn to read this book." Carmen took the book and looked inside--it had testimonies of encounters with angels. Their bus arrived in NYC at 3:30pm, 50 minutes earlier than their expected time. Carmen and her baby got off the bus, and when they looked for the woman, she was gone.
Adrienne
P.S. Carmen happens to have a necklace with the Archangel Raphael on it--Raphael is my guardian angel-- he's the guardian angel for travelers.
The women in my family are possessed with the ability to "see" things.... things that will happen... we have "visitations" from members of our family -- especially the female members and this usually happens when something significant is going to happen. For instance, my grandmother, (who is now deceased), visited me by my bedside about a month before Joe had his transplant and told me "Linnie -- get ready child -- it won't be another month before you will be called".
Strange but true. This happened during the Thanksgiving holidays...Joe had his transplant on December 4.
Anyway back to my "true" angel story.
Joe had his transplant and went into hyper acute rejection -- his body totally and completely rejected the lung. His other lung was already nonfunctional from the disease that he had, which was fatal. The doctors told me if the lung did not begin to work on its own within a week or two, that if they could not find another lung, to transplant, that Joe would die because he would have no respiratory capability.
I remember standing outside of ICU (they would not let me go in to see him), watching him receive a blood transfusion and thinking to myself (praying actually), "Please, God, please, please don't take him yet".
To make a long story short... at the head of his bed all of a sudden, after I had been standing there for what seemed a very long time, in a trance like state (which is what happens when we "see" during the daytime or when we are awake -- his mother, (who is deceased), appeared at the head of his hospital bed. She was wearing a gauzy white flowing robe type apparel.. She looked absolutely lovely and serene... Her hair was done all nicely and I seem to remember it looked as if she had stardust in her hair. She took both hands, put one on each side of Joe's face, and looked straight at me and said, "Daughter, his time has not come yet.... we will take care of him... worry not.. he is in our care". She looked at me for some time while she stroked her son's face telling me things about her grandchildren, (whom she has never seen), and how proud she was of our family. Then she began to fade slowly -- telling me again -- it is not his time... it is not his time... we will take care of him.. he is in our hands.
Strange -- but very true -- this is my favorite angel story. I believe it is true. I believe that Mamie did come down and show herself to me and say those things to me.
Joe did recover, slowly, but he did recover.
I only saw Mamie one more time... the night before he was dismissed from ICU -- she just appeared at the head of Joe's bed again... touching Joe lightly on the face,giving me the most beautiful, most serene smile -- of such utter peace and beauty -- and that is the last I have seen of her.
Yes, angels do exist.... I believe they can take many forms.... I have thought a lot about this since then -- especially whether or not to tell anyone about it -- but with this group -- what better place to tell of my favorite angel story since it was a true life experience?
Thank you all, for listening. I do hope you believe, as I believe.
Peace be with you --
Namaste
MindTraveler
This is a true story that occurred in 1994 and was 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 in route 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. And 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 unrecognizable 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 the baby would be okay, but the man couldn't hear him. He said, "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. And 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 whoosh, 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 get 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.
Lloyd Glen
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