This is a true story that occurred in 1994 and was told by
Lloyd Glen.

The Birdies
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 day last year.
On July 22nd I was in 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 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
garagedoor 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 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
pronounced as having no neurological or physical deficits, and the story of was
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 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.  And 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
unrecognizable 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 atrip," 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 on her
more soundly, but with an urgency she had never before known.  Brian went
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 the baby would be okay,
but the man couldn't hear him.  He
said, 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.  And 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 whoosh, 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

smiled.  Needless to say, we have not been the same ever since that day,and I
pray we never will be.