|
|
The Birdies
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.
[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.
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 than 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.