I'd like to tell a story of something that happened to me that made me truly realize that we are NOT alone on this earth.

It was the winter of 1977. I had just lost Andy, my only child, five years old in a horrible accident. To those of you who have visited my website, you know a tree crashed down in my backyard striking my only child who was playing outside.

My life changed that day. I lost my future. I lost my child that I loved so very much. No one could get "through" to me. No matter what family and friends said to me, that pain would not go away. I was the one who went to bed crying. I was the one who cried all day, who couldn't eat, who couldn't do anything but cry. I pleaded and pleaded with God to give him back. Give me ONE more chance with him, but don't leave me here without my child.

As the days went on, my depression got worse. I didn't want to live without my son any longer. I was Catholic. I knew it was wrong to take my life,.....but the pain was so strong, the lump in my chest hurt so much. I couldn't cope. I couldn't go anywhere, I couldn't function anymore. I felt life was over for me.

I decided to take my own life just before Christmas. I could not even begin to think of being with my family and not have my son there. I couldn't think of being happy, sharing gifts, anything. I wanted to be with my son. I begged God over and over to take me and yet He left me on this earth with a pain there are not words to describe.

It was a cold snowy day in December. My husband was going into town for some groceries. I knew I'd be alone on our 80-acre farm. I knew I'd be "gone" before he came back from town. I'd had some razor blades and hid them in a dresser drawer. At last, my day had come.

I crawled into bed, crying. I knew in my heart this was wrong, but I felt so alone. I felt no one on the face of this earth could realize how badly I hurt. And I couldn't imagine going on day after day any longer with that kind of pain. A pain that paralyzed me from living. I propped myself up on my pillows, and had the razor blade in my right hand. I am a bleeder, and I knew if I made one quick slash, I would hit my main vein and it would all be over with quickly. I left a note for my parents and my husband telling them that I could not cope with the pain anymore. My son needed me, and I needed him.

Just as I raised my hand to cut myself, I said, "God forgive me for what I'm about to do but my cross is too heavy to bear this time." I heard my name called. A man's voice. A voice that even today, I can remember as clear as anything. My hand stopped in mid air as my name was called again. I knew something was happening but I was so much in pain, I wanted to pretend I DIDN'T hear the voice. Again my name was called, more intense that time. And then one more time my name was called, louder, much more intense and suddenly this thought came into my head........go turn the television on. Our t.v. was in the living room, not near me. I didn't want to get off the bed, nor did I want to walk down the hall to the living room. I shook my head "NO" and as God is my judge, I was PUSHED off the bed. I fell on the floor, and I knew then "something" or "someone" was in that bedroom with me, someone I couldn't see.

I ran down the hall, and as I got into the living room, I pulled the button on for the t.v. Ours was the older type, when you first turned it on, a little dot would appear and grow larger and larger until the picture filled the screen. When I pulled the knob out to turn the set on........there was a number on the screen. It said: SUICIDE PREVENTION......with the number.

I sat down on the couch and started crying. I remember holding my head in my hands crying with all my being. I must have sat there for at least 10 minutes. When I looked back up at the t.v., the number was still there on the screen. I called it. The minute the lady answered on the other end, my t.v. went blank. They sat with me for over an hour guiding me, talking to me, talking me out of taking my own life.

On that day, I realized "someone" was with me that was more powerful than I was. I realized my life was not to be taken. I won't say my life changed that day and my pain went away. It didn't. It took a long time before I could fully function the way I did before my son died. But on that day I realized God DOES speak to us. Whether that voice was His, or an angel, I will never know. I only know my life was spared because of a voice calling my name and a number that stayed on my t.v. set. I know it's impossible for a number to just STAY THERE for minutes on our screens. But it happened. And it saved me.

I have always remembered that day, and it inspired me years later to do the things I do now. I work with bereaved parents. For God knows, I know the pain they are going through when their child dies. But so many WANT to believe and are skeptical TO believe. I had always believed in God, but until that day, I truly had never had an experience to PROVE to me that there is something more than the life we know on this earth. I believe in Heaven. I believe in Angels. And do I believe in God? You bet! For I believe I've heard His voice. 
 
 

 
 

 
 

PLEASE VISIT SHARON'S WEB SITES

  ~IN MEMORY OF ANDREW FRANK DUNBAR~

~AN ANGEL'S PATH TO HIS MOTHER'S HEART~

 ~ANGELS REMEMBERED~

 ~TANNEHILL SWEET SHOP~

"IN GOD'S HANDS"

 ~ANDREW FRANK DUNBAR~
~GOD'S LITTLEST ANGELS MEMORIAL SECTION~

 ~A TRIBUTE TO ANDY~
~ON THE WINGS OF ANGELS MEMORIAL SECTION~
 
 

 
 

~MY WINDOW~

~THE LITTLE BOX~