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----- Original Message -----
From: Marilyn
Riopel
To: Richard Riopel
Sent: Saturday, April 06, 2002 4:56 PM
Subject: Fw: [Fwd: Fw: This made my Day] This is quite a story.
Love, Marilyn
> We all need the little "birdies" > 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 > 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 one 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 how we felt 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 > 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 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 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. > An Angel To Watch over You Some people come into our > lives and quickly go... > Some people become friends and stay a while ... > leaving beautiful footprints on our hearts ... and we > are never quite the same because we have made a good > friend!! > Yesterday is history. Tomorrow a mystery. Today is a > gift..That's why it's called the present! Live and > savor every moment.....this is not a dress rehearsal! > THIS IS A SPECIAL GUARDIAN ANGEL.... > YOU MUST PASS THIS ON TO 5 PEOPLE WITHIN THE HOUR OF > RECEIVING HEREOF YOU HAVE PASSED HER ON, SHE'LL WATCH > OVER YOU FOREVER.... IF NOT, HER TEARS WILL FLOW.... > Now don't delete this message, it comes from a very > special angel > Louise van Moorsel |
- Re: OFF/ [Fwd: Fw: This made my Day] Michael Roboz
- Re: OFF/ [Fwd: Fw: This made my Day] Jennifer Rochester
