This is a true story that occurred in 1994 and is told by Lloyd Glenn:
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 lying 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.

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.

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 alright."   "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 pray we never will be.