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 res- pirator. 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

neuro- logical 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

sur prised 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

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,

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 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.

"Author Unknown"