Birdies
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 en 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. A neighbor, who is a doctor,
had
performed CPR, 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 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.
[TEA 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.
But the story isn't 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 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
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 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.
An Angel To Watch over You