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HEY SIS, I LOVE YOU
by Donna |
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A few months after Jimmy's death my daughter awoke
one morning early to the phone ringing. (please
understand that she believes in none of this ). She
answered and there was Jimmy, her brother, on the other
end. Jimmy had died at age thirty five of cancer. There was
a tremendous amount of static on the telephone so she
could barely hear him, but she was so glad to hear his
voice. She kept asking him if he was all right, and if he
was in any pain.
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He sounded a little confused, but he answered, "No, I am
not in any pain. It is different here. There is no pain at all,
but I am aware of everything. I know everything that is
going on. "
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She asked if she could call me to come to the bedroom to
talk to him too, (we live together). He said I can't stay but
maybe next time. I love you."
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And he was gone. She said there was a dial tone on the
phone. She came running into my room crying. She said
it was real. It was not a dream.
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That day we called Lisa, Jimmy's wife to tell her about it.
She said wait, let me tell you what happened here. At just
about the same time, she woke up, and saw Jimmy sitting
up in bed. She said he looked well, not sick at all. He just
looked at her, and then he picked up the phone, and was
speaking into the phone. She could not hear what he was
saying, but she could see his lips moving. He then put
down the phone, and looked at her, and said, I love you
Lisa, and he was gone.
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We know that this happened. We know something really
happened and that it was Jimmy trying to contact his wife
and his sister. Of course, I am a little disappointed it
wasn't me too, but I am just glad they had contact with
him.
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Jimmy had contacted me earlier, in fact it was the day that
he was buried, however one always wishes for just one
more time! We were very close and spoke every day. I
miss, "Hey" when I answer the phone. I miss all his
advice, and his stories about his kids, and his job, and his
very obvious love. I can't wait until we are together again.
But, I will have to.
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Donna Cherwinski
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THE DREAM AND THE REALITY
by Maggie |
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One night when I went to bed and turned out my light I
felt what seemed like a hand on my head. It lasted quite a
long time, time enough for me to wonder what was
happening and then to eventually turn my light back on
to see if something was on my pillow. There wasn't, but
whatever it was felt very warm and comforting, so I didn't
worry about it. I thought perhaps it was my deceased
mother who had come to let me know that she was
thinking of me. I don't know why I thought that, as she
passed over some 18 years ago, and I hadn't ever had any
sign from her before.
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Two weeks later I had the most terrible nightmare.
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My 32 year old son James was walking with his dad, when
some louts came up and bashed him across the back of the
legs with a steel bar. He fell to his knees, but after a few
minutes, his father helped him up and he managed to
walk again. About three days later he was admitted to
hospital, where he died of his injuries. The next thing I
was in a big hall and up on a stage. All James' friends were
there, his ex-wife, his three little girls and his mother-in-
law. The girls were running around through all the
people. I was telling Mil (my husband) that I didn't know
why I wasn't crying. Then someone made a speech about
James and I fell to my knees, sobbing with the most
incredible grief.
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I woke up crying and stayed awake the rest of the night,
crying and shaken. The next day I told some of my friends
about the dream and it stayed with me for days. Every
time I closed my eyes, I felt the grief all over again.
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Three weeks after my dream, James was driving home
from interstate after taking his two older girls, Jessica and
Samantha, home to their mother after they had spent a
couple of weeks holiday with us. He was not here when I
had my dream, as when he took the girl's home he stayed
up in Brisbane for about a month with them and his
friends. He rang me at 3:15pm one Tuesday afternoon
(30th June 1998) to tell me he was on his way home. I
asked him to please drive carefully as I had had this bad
dream and he promised me he would ring me again at
each major town, to let me know he was OK.
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At 10:30 pm the police came to our front door and told me
that James had been involved in a very bad accident, and
that he was barely alive. He died four or five or hours
later. He had some extremely horrific injuries, he'd lost
control on what is called "black ice" and he crashed into a
power pole with tremendous force. The weather was
extremely bad; the middle of winter, with rain and gale
force winds blowing. The police told us that he had head
and internal injuries. What really shocked me when we
got the coroner's report, we found that both his legs were
severely smashed and broken. At James' funeral
everything was exactly as I dreamed. The same people
were there. And his mother-in-law had to take Nikki,
(who had just celebrated her second birthday with her
dad) outside because she started running around during
the service!
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I have told many people about this dream and it has been
suggested to me that the dream came to prepare me for
the actual event, to soften the blow and to open up my
emotions. I feel as if the spirit world knew he was joining
them and sent the dream to prepare me. I have since
found out that it has also been known for other parents to
have similar experiences.
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After his death, James spoke with me, but that is another
story. | | | |
Maggie
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THE REMINDERS
by Mark E. Ellis |
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During times of crisis and great challenge, we often feel
God's presence very strongly in our lives. But He remains
close during the good times and the quiet times, even
though we may not feel His presence in such a powerful
and immediate way.
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I was reminded of this the other day when my wife Sonya
and I stopped for gas and I began thinking about a
morning two and a half years ago when I stopped for gas
at the same gas station and God made himself felt in my
life.
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Sonya and I had been struggling for months trying to
make all the arrangements for a church wedding and had
repeatedly run into roadblocks. Finally we decided to
elope. We set the date for Dec. 13, just six weeks away.
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Well, I guess I had cold feet, even though I was convinced
God had brought us together and wanted us to be married.
All that night I had trouble sleeping. Three times I sat
right up in bed, and each time I looked at the clock. Each
time it was 13 after the hour -- 1:13, 3:13, 5:13. I took that
strange occurrence to mean that God was reassuring me,
telling me to go forward with the elopement on December 13.
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Still, in the morning I remained nervous and unsure. On
the way to work I stopped for gas. It was then I decided to
issue the challenge to God.
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My car, a Nissan Sentra, had always taken $13 and some
cents worth of gas when I filled it from near empty.
However, the price of gas had dropped more than a dime
a gallon a few weeks earlier. Since then, the car had not
once reached $13. As I put the nozzle into the gas tank, I
silently told God that if he really wanted me to marry
Sonya, he could make the car take $13 worth of gas. That
would be the final answer; I would not ask again.
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I set the nozzle on automatic, then turned away and
waited.
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Minutes later, the nozzle clicked off and I turned to see
the price. I swallowed hard when I saw it had not reached
$13! But wait. It had stopped at $12.13, the exact date of the
wedding. I had my answer from God.
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Last night, as I was getting gas at that same gas station, I
happened to remember that episode three years ago. My
mind wandered as I pumped the gas. I thought about how
I rarely get signs from God like that anymore, even
though they seemed so frequent back in those days of
uncertainty in my life. Then I thought, well, I don't need
them now, because my faith is so much stronger. Besides,
I've learned that it's wrong to be like Gideon and to expect
God to give me signs when I doubt him. It's wrong to
challenge God. I should always trust in Him.
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I was deep in these thoughts when the gas nozzle loudly
clicked off, startling me back to reality. As I slid the nozzle
out of the gas tank and put it back into its holster on the
pump, I looked up to see the cost of the gas. To my
amazement, the price was $20.13. Even more amazing ‚
immediately below the price was the number of gallons ‚
12.135.
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I had to smile. God may not be giving me signs in my life
every day like He once did, but He is still there. And on
this day, as He listened to my mental discourse, He
decided to remind that He still has the power to send me a
sign any time He wants.
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Copyright 2000 - Mark E. Ellis
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Mark E. Ellis is a journalist and singer/songwriter in
Massachusetts and is co-founder of the Lighthouse Song &
Sign Ministry with his wife, Sonya. The couple has
ministered all over the East Coast, providing original
Christian music in both song and sign language to bring
God's Holy Word to the hearing and the non-hearing.
They have also released two CDs and a children's cassette.
Their web site is www.lighthouseministry.org. Mark says "Add
your deaf ministry or ASL class to our listings at
http://www.lighthouseministry.org/sign.html."
Order our CDs and tapes at
http://www.lighthouseministry.org/music.html
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ALWAYS HER ANGEL
by Stacie |
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A few years ago I worked for a family owned Hallmark
store in Rochester, New York. I worked in the store alone
most nights and came to know our regular customers
pretty well. Some collected Boyd's, some collected
Cherished Teddies, you get the picture.
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One of my favorite customers was a woman named Reva.
She was a little woman with flaming red hair and a huge
personality. When she walked into the store, a smile was
instinctive. One Saturday, she walked in to the store, took
one look at me and started crying. She said she had come
to see me and give me "this" as she handed me a little gift
bag. I smiled and asked why. And then she told me.
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I was a poor college student and was unable to pay my
long distance phone bill. My service was eventually shut
off. My family was five hours away and I couldn't call
home. Radio Shack, which was a few stores down, was
having a free phone card giveaway. You could win from
five minutes to an hour. I was alone in my store and
couldn't leave. Just then Reva came in and I asked her to
do me a HUGE favor and get one of those free phone cards
for me. She said yes and came back with two for me and
one for her. She had won five minutes and was very
excited.
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As it turned out, she put the card in her pocket and forgot
about it. A few weeks later she was in the car and was
thinking about her mom, who was supposed to go into
the hospital for some minor surgery that day. She pulled
off to the side of the road looking for some change for the
payphone. She couldn't find any change, but she
happened to be wearing the same coat she wore when she
got her free phone card (she had not worn it since that
day.) To her surprise, she pulled out the forgotten phone
card and called her mom. She wished her mother luck,
told her that she loved her and said she'd call later.
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Something went wrong in the hospital and her mother
died that morning. While Reva was telling me this story, I
was crying for her loss and I asked her what all of this had
to do with me. She said that because of me, she had been
able to tell her mother she loved her on the day that she
died. She had no change, but she had five free minutes
courtesy of Radio Shack and a poor girl with no long
distance. She gave me an angel as a symbol of her
gratefulness because I happened to be in the right place at
the right time. She told me that I would always be "her
angel."
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I have since lost touch with Reva but I know she will
forever stay in my heart. I never felt like I did anything
great, but she made me feel like I had done the most
wonderful thing in the world and for that I will be forever
honored. I have lost people in my life who I haven't been
able to say goodbye to, or I haven't said I love you. When I
look at that angel that Reva gave me, it reminds me to be
good to people -- for I may be their angel for that day.
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Stacie Angelo
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Stacie says, "I am a single 'mom' of four cats, supporting
them by working as a sign language interpreter in my
hometown Poughkeepsie, NY. I am an avid reader and
writer."
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ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER
by Lee |
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An opportunity of a lifetime! I am going to Europe. The
catch, help a woman that is dying of cancer reach Lourdes.
Her husband, a small man, is there for support. She takes
a few steps. I can do this... or can I?
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Arriving at her home the day of the trip, she no longer
sits. I look at her frail body and wonder is she will survive
the trip. Lifting her into the wheelchair she lets out a
moan. Pain? Exhaustion? I ask her if this is what she
wants. She slowly nods yes. I turn to her husband.
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"We go." He says. I brace her chest to the wheelchair with
my sweater and zip it up the back. Her neck I support with
a brace.
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At the airport, the support was not enough for the
grueling wait. I tilt the wheelchair back, lay her head on
my shoulder. An angel on my shoulder. She lay there at
peace. I pray she will make it home. We have not even
left.
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The trip was truly exhausting. Weaker, she cannot hold
her head up to eat. I lay her head on my shoulder for
support and feed her. Again, I knew it would be possible
to go on. Her head never felt heavy, the task was never to
hard.
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We went to the grotto at Lourdes that night. Eighteen
hours straight travel, we were not too tired to partake in
the sites. She slept that night only six hours. She awoke
with the moan of the day before. A little louder? A little
stronger? I lifted her up in the wheelchair. My angel now
sat. Her head up high. Her body sitting tall. She's eating
again!
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It was an opportunity for us all. She made it home with
her family. Less than two weeks later she passed. Her head
still lays on my shoulder and an Angel she truly is.
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Lee Horvath OT
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Lee is an Occupational Therapist who treats the ill in their
homes. She graduated from U OF I medical school and
has seventeen years of experience. Overwhelmed with the
trip and the inspiration, she decided to put it into words.
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MY SPECIAL SON
by Evonne |
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I had many troubles with my pregnancies. It seemed as
soon as I neared three months that I would lose the babies.
This happened many times.
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Then in 1970 I gave birth to a baby born in the 6th month
and he looked perfect from the outside but his lungs
weren't developed and so at three hours old he died in
my arms, never to take another breath. My son Bryan was
gone forever.
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I kept trying to get pregnant but it seemed destined not to
happen. After ten years, my husband and I decided to
adopt. It took nearly a year for the process to go through
and since there were no babies available, we decided to
adopt a four year-old little boy. In order to adopt him I
needed to have complete physical.
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While I was having my exam, the doctor looked at me
and said " I believe you're pregnant. Its early to tell but I
am sure you're going to have a baby".
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Shocked, I said "No you're wrong", but he insisted I was
pregnant. I was stunned. I wanted a baby and yet this
meant we could not adopt the little four year old boy.
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The pregnancy went fine until the sixth month. Then
because I was diabetic, there were complications. My baby
had to be born by c-section. I worried that my baby would
be born too early and would die like Bryan did.
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My son Wilson came into the world crying, and hungry.
He also looked perfect.
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When Wilson was only eighteen hours old I was holding
that tiny baby and he stopped breathing in my arms and I
screamed for help. Then I said " Please Lord don't take
this baby too! Let me have him - please?"
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A nurse came in grabbed him, shook him gently and
tapped his feet. He finally cried the loudest sounding cry I
had ever heard. She took him to the Nursery and he was
put on a heart monitor. His heart stopped five more
times. And yet I knew he would make it, as the Lord gave
him back to me the first time.
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We were able to bring him home when he was a month
old. He is now 19. Still has a heart murmur but otherwise
he is a healthy child.
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I have always called him my Special Child as he beat death
six times.
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The Lord granted me more children after Wilson and I
am thankful for them. I thank the Lord everyday for
giving me my son back to me and for my other children
too. I am still a single mom raising my children, but I
enjoy every day I have with the children the Lord has let
me have.
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Evonne Welborn
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ONE MORE GOOD BYE
by Frances |
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On April 14, 1996 my sister Margie passed away. She was
only 42 years of age. Cancer had taken her after a five year
battle.
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Margie was always the most active and health conscious
one in our family. She was a strong outdoor woman. She
hunted, fished, and was camping in every spare weekend
she had.
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Margie treated my oldest two children like her own. She
had had a son late in life, and when she passed away he
was only five years of age.
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On that awful morning Gary , her husband and I had
begun to smell a very strange odor. No one else seem to be
aware of it. Margie had requested to die at home, so the
whole family had been there the last few days. She was
trying to tell us something, when she passed away in our
arms.
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A few weeks had passed. I had returned to my job, back on
third shift. I came home one morning and when I started
through the hall I could smell that same odor as the day
Margie had died. My Mom came in and told me that
Grady, my son, was up and down all night talking to
someone in the hall. I woke him up and asked why he
had been up in the hall way. He said Margie was standing
in the hall. She asked him to come talk to her. She told
him how proud of him she was, and how she missed
him. I asked why he wasn't afraid of her, and he said he
just wasn't. [THEN] she started chasing him. He said they
first ran through the graveyard where she was buried,
then all the way to her home. Her house was quite a
distance from our home. At her house she chased him
through the hall, and into her bedroom. He said it was as
if she needed him to lead her home, then he woke up.
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Within ten minutes of talking to Grady, Margie's
husband, Gary called wanting to speak to me. I got on the
phone, and he was crying. He said between four and five
that morning, he was wakened to see Margie standing in
the doorway of their bedroom. He also said Shane, her
son, had crawled in bed that morning because he was
afraid of ghosts.
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Gary proceeded to get up to talk to Margie. She kept
slipping back down the hall, looking straight at him. He
told her how much he loved her, and that they really
missed her. She finally faded away in the living room,
near the same spot her hospital bed had been setting when
she passed away.
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I told Gary that Grady had also seen Margie at almost the
exact time. He also said that that smell was real strong in
the house.
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Margie always said she would be close at hand, watching
over us. I guess she meant it. Margie was a fantastic
person. She made me proud to have been a part of our
family.
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Frances Dayton, Ohio
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