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
     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
     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
     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 s tay if you
     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.

     This is a true story that occurred in 1994
     and was told by Lloyd Glen. 




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