This is a true story that occurred in 1994 and is 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 enroute 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 mile.

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 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 found.

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 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

chest and recognizable 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 that the baby would be okay, but the man couldn't hear

him. He said the 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.

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

woosh, 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.ges here]

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