On July 22nd I was en 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 Rep. 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  pre-pared me to see my little
son lying so still on a great big bed with tubes and monitors every- where.
He was on a Respirator.  I glanced at my wife who stood and tried to give me
a reassur- ing smile. It all seemed like a terrible dream.  I was filled-in
with the details and given a guar- ded  prognosis. Brian was going to live,
& 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 just 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, 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.

Brian answered.  'The baby lying 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 had 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 (HIS
SOUL)   HAD LEFT HIS BODY AND WAS LOOKING DOWN FROM ABOVE ON THIS LITTLE
LIFELESS FORM. (referring to it as ‘the baby’)

'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 up so fast 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 (physical) EYES  AND  WE DON'T HEAR THEM BECAUSE WE
LISTEN WITH OUR (physical) 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.

So the next time you complain about things in your life, do remember that
YOU have chosen the events, in order to learn from those experiences.
Everyone has a ‘plan’ although we are not consciously aware of it because a
‘Veil of forgetfulness’ is placed on the soul at birth.  –


-- 
GOD BLESS
Thanks & Regards
SHIJU MATHAI

--~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups 
"BETTER PERSONALITY GROUP" group.
To post to this group, send email to [email protected]
To unsubscribe from this group, send email to 
[email protected]
For more options, visit this group at 
http://groups.google.com/group/BETTER_PERSONALITY?hl=en
-~----------~----~----~----~------~----~------~--~---

Reply via email to