a story every one should cut and paste and share with friends and family. enjoy. but break out the kleenex first.  NA hugs and love,  JJ


On July 22nd I was on  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 he 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.

[TEAR 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. 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.

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 & still chest 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 are 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. 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 talked about 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.

You have just been sent an Angel to watch over you. Some  people come into our lives and quickly go…Some people become friends and stay a while…leaving beautiful footprints on our hearts …. and we are never quite the same because we have made a good friend!!  

Yesterday is history. Tomorrow a mystery. Today is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present! Live and savor every moment…this is not a dress rehearsal! THIS IS A SPECIAL GUARDIAN ANGEL…


Now don’t delete this message, because it comes from a very special Angel.  

I  passed this on, not because it says to, but because I hope everyone  I send it to, will be as blessed by reading it, as I was. I believe God sends angels to watch over all of His children. 





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