Читать книгу Visits From Heaven - Josie Varga - Страница 23
ОглавлениеLogan Gets Her Wings
Angela Denes
Ohio
SignsFromHeavN@aol.com
I remember standing in our living room when, out of the blue, my three-year-old daughter Logan proudly announced that she was going to be an angel. No one else was around, and we were not talking about anything. In fact, I was quietly dusting when she sought me out.
“I be an angel,” she said.
“An angel,” I asked.
“Huh, Hun, an ardian angel,” she replied.
“Oh, a guardian angel,” I repeated correcting her,
Half laughing with my emphasis on the letter g.
In a matter-of-fact and rather serious tone, she answered, “Nues,” her word for “yes.” Glancing down towards the floor, she appeared somewhat ashamed and yet relieved at the same time. Shrugging her shoulder, she walked out of the room with nothing more to say. One week later, my little girl was killed in a tragic accident.
Since her death, I have received many signs from heaven. On one particular night, I had a dream of Logan; only it was more real and not like a dream. In it my little girl came to me for a visit. There was an unmistakable higher presence that accompanied her. I vividly remember being afraid to even touch her because I knew she had died and was in spirit form.
Despite my fears, I still wanted very much to hold her so I asked this presence for permission to hug and kiss my daughter, and it was granted. Logan never said a word. But she let me touch her, and I found myself kneeling down on her level to give her a kiss.
I put my arms around her and gave her a big tight squeeze while I savored the skin-to-skin contact my lips made with her soft cheek. As I was holding her, I acknowledged and thanked this other presence. I couldn't see anyone else but knew someone was there allowing this to take place.
I felt a feeling of urgency rush through me and understood that her appearance was only temporary. As I was hugging her, I remember asking with my thoughts, not my voice, “Please, just one more moment?” It was allowed, and then they both left.
The next morning after awakening and doing my chores, I was interrupted by the ring of the telephone. It was my mother. She asked how I was and then told me, “Last night, I asked Logan to come to you in a dream.” My mother now had my undivided attention as she went on to tell me, “I was driving home from work, and I asked Logan to do me a favor.”
I was so excited to tell her that I did have a dream—a really good one! But before I could finish, she interrupted me and said, “Wait! Let me tell you what I asked her to do.” I thought this was an odd choice of words for my mother, but I let her talk first. “I asked her to go to you and let you hug and kiss her. I asked her to make sure it would be very real, not like a dream.”
As she said this, I began crying remembering the dream. After she finished, it was my turn to share the dream I had. I know that Logan did that for all of us. She used my mother and me so that we would have each other to verify for the rest of our lives what had happened.
Several months later, I dreamed that our daughter was holding a cat in her arms when the tow truck ran over her. Next, I found myself at the hospital just like the night she died. The doctors were giving us the bad news, “We're sorry. There is nothing left we can do. She is not going to make it and neither is the cat. We're going to lose both of them by morning.” In the dream, my child did die in the morning, but the cat she was holding lived. I remember angrily questioning how they could save a cat but not our child. I was mortified and awoke.
The next day I had to work second shift at the hospital. Toward the end of my shift, I decided to take a break and went outside. I was on the second floor of the hospital at the top of a set of concrete wall-lined stairs that lead down to the main floor sidewalk. A steel door at the top of the narrow stairs gave entrance to the hospital, and I was sitting at the top of them.
As I was sitting outside talking to Logan, God, and the universe, I was aware of the streetlight across the way. While I was sitting there gazing at the light, trying to find a reason for all this pain and misery, I was deep in thought, “Logan, I know you can let me know you're OK. That is all Mommy really needs to understand. I can deal with the pain of living without you as long as I know you are safe and are being taken very good care of. Could you please find a way to let me know that you are alright? Please? I promise you that if you can give me a sign, I will never doubt it. I promise with every fiber of my being; no matter what anyone ever tries to tell me, I will not disbelieve it. People can call me crazy or say anything they want, but I will never question that you did this for me; I promise!”
As I was enchanted by the streetlight, pledging my promise, I remembered about electricity and understood how we are all part of it and that it is related to energy. From a scientific aspect, energy can never disappear; it can change only from one form into another.
I asked her to make the light blink. I told Logan to just flicker it and that would be my sign that she was OK. Most newly bereaved people want to know that their departed loved ones still exist and that they are OK. Our loved ones are just as eager to offer us some reassurance for peace and comfort. For quite some time, I had been praying to St. Philamena to watch over our daughter. I ordered Logan to go and get St. Philamena or someone else if she could not do it herself. I could feel a struggle of energy when all of a sudden the light went off!
I could not believe my eyes. Then it came back on. I was like, “WOW!” I shot straight up from a sitting position, rubbing my eyes in disbelief and looked once more. Again, the light went off and came back on. By now, I was shaking, crying, and practically jumping up and down thanking Logan and God. The light started going crazy: on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on. Almost as if she was as thrilled as I was that we were somehow communicating. Oh, how my heart had been set free. I knew she was fine.
I stepped inside the building and yelled for Sally, a co-worker. She came to see what I was so excited about. As we ventured out onto the landing of the second floor, a cat jumped out of nowhere from behind the steel door. Sally is a feline lover and thought I was excited about the cat. “Oh, a cat, a cat!” she said. I answered in kind of a frustrated tone, “No! Not the cat, the light, the light!” We were both surprised because a cat could have only gotten on the landing by climbing up the stairs, but this one had jumped out from behind the door where nothing but a wall of concrete stood.
I had forgotten about the dream until on my way home from work that night when it hit me like a ton of bricks, “The CAT!” Oh, my goodness, it was the cat from my dream that my child was holding. My dear, sweet, clever little girl and my precious Savior both knew me too well. They knew that although I had made a vow, I was only human and would still have doubts. Therefore, they gave me extra reassurance or what I refer to as a double sign!
