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 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 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 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.
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 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 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 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, none 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.