Saved by an Angel (19 page)

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Authors: Virtue Doreen,calibre (0.6.0b7) [http://calibre.kovidgoyal.net]

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BOOK: Saved by an Angel
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In the early hours, I was suddenly awakened by someone hysterically banging on our front door. I jumped out of bed and rushed downstairs. It was our next-door neighbor hysterically screaming, “Baby Butch is dead! Baby Butch is dead!”

It was six o’clock in the morning, and his mother had just come home after leaving her children alone for the night. When she looked in the baby’s crib, she discovered that he was dead. It appeared that he had strangled or smothered, for he had somehow twisted the bedsheets around his neck.

Baby Butch visited me that night to show me that he was now an angel. He was giving me the message to not grieve, because he was with Jesus. Since that time, I have known that death is not final, there
is
a heaven, and angels are real.

W
HAT A
C
HILD
S
EES
by Pamela Weber

Jessica, my six-year-old daughter, told me that the angels come to her almost every evening when she wakes up in the middle of the night, and they sing her beautiful lullabies to put her back to sleep. One night, she said that she asked the angels where they go when they leave her room, and they asked if she would like to see.

When Jessica replied, “Yes!” the angels took her upward with them. She said that her surroundings became colored pink and purple and sparkly. She saw adult angels, kids, and baby angels there; and they were all singing beautiful songs. She said that they then brought her back to her room, and when the angels exited, they entered a bright light and went back up. She was so excited about this, and she looks forward to her meetings with them in her dreams.

I told her she was a very fortunate little girl, and that she should never let anything or anyone come between her and her angels.

I S
AW
M
Y
A
UNT
E
VEN
T
HOUGH
I H
ADN

T
M
ET
H
ER OR
H
EARD ABOUT
H
ER
!
by Mary Anne Luppino

When I was seven years old, I had a dream that a snake bit my ankle, and it actually hurt so much that I awoke and sat up suddenly. I saw a figure in the doorway of my room who looked like my mother. I reached out for her, crying. When I did so, she slowly disappeared. In the next moment, my babysitter came in to see why I was crying. It turned out that my mother wasn’t even home yet.

In later years, I realized that the spirit I saw was my mother’s sister, Belle, who had died when she was 18. Belle and my mother looked almost exactly alike. Years later, a psychic who didn’t know about my deceased aunt informed me that a woman named Belle was my guardian angel. She described Belle, and told me what kind of dress she was wearing. When I repeated the description to my mother, she started to cry, because that had been her sister’s favorite dress.

T
HE
G
RANDFATHER
I’
D
N
EVER
K
NOWN
by Luann Brown

When I was 16, on December 20 at 2:10
A.M.
, the phone rang with the news that an ambulance had just been called for my grandmother, who was very ill. My dad met her at the hospital, and they admitted her to the intensive care unit, saying she’d had a heart attack. When he left, she had been okay and able to talk to him.

My grandmother had lived with us since I was five years old, and she and I were very close. We shared many special stories throughout these years, and she was more like a second mother to me. When my dad came home, he told us all the details about Grandma’s condition, and said she was resting comfortably. The next morning at 7:30, I was drying my hair in my bedroom in front of the mirror. My parents had gone to work already, and I saw a man standing in my doorway. He said, “Your grandmother has passed away.” I turned around, but there was nobody there!

I was so scared that I called my father, who told me to phone the police and said that he would be right home. He worked about five minutes away, and the police were there when he got home. They searched our house and found nothing. After they left, my father drove me to school. Nobody ever asked me if the man had said anything. After school, my parents were there to pick me up, which they’d never done before. We got home, and my father then told me that my grandmother had indeed passed away.

All I said was I that I already knew. He asked me how I knew, and then I told him what the man had said. Dad began to sob. To this day, he swears it must have been his father who told me. My grandfather had passed away when my father was just 14.

T
HE
S
WIMMING
-P
OOL
A
NGEL
by Jenn Krejci

I remember the day an angel saved my life like it was yesterday! I must have been about five years old. I was in my yard in Poughkeepsie, New York. Hearing laughter, I ran to the white picket fence. My neighbor friend and his mom were splashing around in their pool.

They saw me staring at them and yelled over: “Jennifer, would you like to come swimming with us?”

Of course a second later I ran into my house, asked my mom’s permission, and changed into my bathing suit. I didn’t know how to swim, and the safest way for me to play in the pool was with one of those doughnut-shaped inflatable inner tubes. It must have taken all of 20 seconds for me to cross the alley, open the gate to my neighbors’ house, dash up the metal stairs to the pool platform, step into an inner tube, and jump in.

As the afternoon went on, lounging in the pool, I found myself wondering what would happen if I let go of the tube. Should I do it? My arms were getting tired—what if I just let go for a second? Nobody was looking. The mom’s back was turned; she was in the water at the other end talking to someone standing at the pool’s edge, and my little friend was inside taking a bathroom break.

So, I let go for a second and kicked my legs, and I stayed afloat … for about three seconds—then I went under. I couldn’t grip the wet tube. I remember not panicking, but just wondering how I was supposed to stop sinking. I was holding my breath, seeing the surface of the pool getting farther and farther away. I remember how pretty the wavy sun looked from under the water, and the beautiful blue sky, too.

I hit the bottom and reached for the inner tube. It was too far away. I tried jumping up to grasp it. I couldn’t. I was still holding my breath, not panicking. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be underwater like this, but how would I get to the surface?

As I stretched my arms up again, someone grabbed my wrists and quickly pulled me straight up out of the water. I saw brown hair and the blue sky and thought for sure it was my friend’s mom and I was in trouble for letting go of my inner tube! Up, up, up I quickly came; I was pulled straight back through the tube; and my hands were placed around its sides. It was as if I’d never let go.

I took a giant breath as I quickly wiped the hair and water from my eyes, and I looked around to thank my friend’s mom … but her back was still turned, and she was still talking to the same person. My little friend had just come out the back door of the house. I thought,
Who was that brown-haired person who grabbed me and pulled me back up through my tube?
I never said anything, because I would surely get in trouble for letting go in the first place!

Today, as a babysitter for multiple families, I tell every child I watch about how a brown-haired angel saved me from drowning, but disappeared before I could thank her! I tell them that when an accident is avoided, you say have to say, “Thank you, angels!”

A G
IVER
, N
OT A
T
AKER
by Lee Lahoud

When I was 11 years old, my father killed himself, and my mother developed a drinking problem, rendering her emotionally unavailable to help me understand or deal with this tragedy. I had learned in Sunday School that suicide was the worst sin there was, so I was really concerned about what had happened to my father. Was he in hell? Was it somehow my fault?

The only place I knew to go for answers was our church, so I shared my concerns with my pastor. Yes, I was told, my father was definitely in hell; and what’s more, I too was going to hell, as were my children, and theirs, for four generations. The sins of the father must be borne by the children, I was told. Someone must pay, and that someone was me.

I was devastated. There seemed to be no reason for me to continue to live—no hope, nothing. Why would I ever have children, knowing that they were condemned from birth? I went home, sat on the floor in my bedroom, and decided to die. Then I saw a light. At first I thought it was sunlight filling the room, but actually, there in the light, sitting cross-legged on the floor with me, was a very happy, smiling man. He had beautiful long, glowing hair. I was fascinated with his hair, and the fact that he was so happy! We had a conversation that, at the time, seemed to be the most normal and natural thing in the world.

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