God in heaven sends his angels

 A DAD'S STORY



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 he 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 crus hed. 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, 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. '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 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, pl ease 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. 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.



You have just been sent an Angel to watch over you.

Some people come into our lives and quickly go....Some people become

friends and stay a while...leaving beautiful footprints on our hearts ..

and we are never quite the same because we have made a good friend!!



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! THIS IS A SPECIAL GUARDIAN

ANGEL...


                      YOU MUST PASS THIS ON TO 5 PEOPLE WITHIN THE HOUR

                        OF RECEIVING HER...IF YOU HAVE PASSED HER ON,

                       SHE'LL WATCH OVER YOU FOREVER...IF NOT, HER TEARS WILL FLOW...



Now don't delete this message, because it comes

from a very special Angel.





                        I passed this on, not because it says to, but

because I hope everyone I send it to, will be as blessed by reading it, as

I was.