This story was related to my dad by a friend of his.  Supposedly, as I
understand it, this story is true, and it may even be someone this friend
knows of.  It's a beautiful story, and I think appropriate here.

Wendy Tebay
-----------------



>>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 Airlines 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 3-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 this 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 :-)]
>>
>>    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.
>>
>>    [The story is not over :-)]
>>
>>    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 3-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 his arms around Brian, 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.
>
>