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Authors: Doreen, Virtue, calibre (0.6.0b7) []

Saved by an angel


Books/Kits/Oracle Board

The Angel Therapy®HandbookAngel Words(with Grant Virtue)Archangels 101The Healing Miracles of Archangel RaphaelThe Art of Raw Living Food(with Jenny Ross)Signs from Above(with Charles Virtue)The Miracles of Archangel MichaelAngel Numbers 101Solomon’s Angels(a novel)My Guardian Angel(with Amy Oscar)Angel Blessings Candle Kit(with Grant Virtue; includes booklet, CD, journal, etc.)Thank You, Angels!(children’s book with Kristina Tracy)Healing Words from the AngelsHow to Hear Your AngelsRealms of the Earth AngelsFairies 101Daily Guidance from Your AngelsDivine MagicHow to Give an Angel Card Reading KitAngels 101Angel Guidance BoardGoddesses & AngelsCrystal Therapy(with Judith Lukomski)Connecting with Your Angels Kit(includes booklet, CD, journal, etc.)Angel MedicineThe Crystal ChildrenArchangels & Ascended MastersEarth AngelsMessages from Your AngelsAngel Visions IIEating in the Light(with Becky Prelitz, M.F.T., R.D.)The Care and Feeding of Indigo ChildrenHealing with the FairiesAngel VisionsDivine PrescriptionsHealing with the Angels“I’d Change My Life If I Had More Time”Divine GuidanceChakra ClearingAngel Therapy®The Lightworker’s WayConstant Craving A–ZConstant CravingThe Yo-Yo Diet SyndromeLosing Your Pounds of Pain

Audio/CD Programs

Angel Therapy®MeditationsArchangels 101(abridged audio book)Fairies 101(abridged audio book)Goddesses & Angels(abridged audio book)Angel Medicine(available as both 1- and 2-CD sets)Angels among Us(with Michael Toms)Messages from Your Angels(abridged audio book)Past-Life Regression with the AngelsDivine PrescriptionsThe Romance AngelsConnecting with Your AngelsManifesting with the AngelsKarma ReleasingHealing Your Appetite, Healing Your LifeHealing with the AngelsDivine GuidanceChakra Clearing

DVD ProgramHow to Give an Angel Card Reading

Oracle Cards (44 or 45 divination cards and guidebook)Romance Angels Oracle Cards(available February 2012)Life Purpose Oracle Cards(available August 2011)Archangel Raphael Healing Oracle CardsArchangel Michael Oracle CardsAngel Therapy®Oracle CardsMagical Messages from the Fairies Oracle CardsAscended Masters Oracle CardsDaily Guidance from Your Angels Oracle CardsSaints & Angels Oracle CardsMagical Unicorns Oracle CardsGoddess Guidance Oracle CardsArchangel Oracle CardsMagical Mermaids and Dolphins Oracle CardsMessages from Your Angels Oracle CardsHealing with the Fairies Oracle CardsHealing with the Angels Oracle Cards

All of the above are available at your local bookstore, or may be ordered byvisiting: Hay House®; Hay House; Hay House; Hay House; Hay House


Copyright © 2011 by Doreen Virtue

Published and distributed in the United States by:Hay House,•Published and distributed in Australia by:Hay House Australia Pty.•Published and distributed in the United Kingdom by:Hay House UK,•Published and distributed in the Republic of South Africa by:Hay House SA (Pty),•Distributed in Canada•Published in India by:Hay House Publishers

Editorial supervision:Jill Kramer  •  Project editor:Alex FreemonCover design:Steve Williams  •  Interior design:Jenny Richards

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any mechanical, photographic, or electronic process, or in the form of a phonographic recording; nor may it be stored in a retrieval system, transmitted, or otherwise be copied for public or private use—other than for “fair use” as brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews—without prior written permission of the publisher.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Portions of this book were published inAngel Visions(Hay House, 2000) andAngel Visions II(Hay House, 2001) by Doreen Virtue.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Saved by an angel : true accounts of people who have had extraordinary experiences with angels--and how you can, too! / [compiled by] Doreen Virtue. -- 1st ed.      p. cm.  ISBN 978-1-4019-3361-6 (tradepaper : alk. paper) -- ISBN 978-1-4019-3362-3 (digital) 1. Angels--Miscellanea. 2. Spiritualism. 3. Visions. I. Virtue, Doreen, 1958-  BF1999.S3422 2011  202'.15--dc22


Tradepaper ISBN:978-1-4019-3361-6Digital ISBN:978-1-4019-3362-3

14  13  12  11    4  3  2  11st edition, June 2011

Printed in the United States of America

Thank You, God,for sending angels toprotect, guide, and love us all.




Chapter 1: Saved by an Angel

•  A Warning Vision,by D. Sorensen•  An Angelic Buffer,by Nelly Coneway•  “Zipper!”by Bernadette Brighton•  I Feel the Source Within Me,by Deborah S. Nutile•  Carried to Safety,by Anna Martin•  An Angel Was Watching Over Me,by Nicole Hume•  There’s No Hiding from an Angel,by Sabine Vogt•  A Truly Special Awakening,by Anonymous•  The Motocross Angel,by Staci Christensen•  At the Angels’ Insistence,by Luisa Wise•  Cradled by Heaven,by Renee Lukaszek•  The Voice That Saved My Little Girl,by Viki Gregory•  Protected by an Angel,by Jenn Krejci•  An Angelic Detour,by Terry Hibbs
Page 2

•  The Cushion and the Magnet,by Clara María del Carmen Mariaka Barrios•  Into My Waiting Arms,by Claudine Lyell•  Lucky to Be Alive,by Jinelle Markham•  Assistance in the Ocean,by Valerie Camozzi

Chapter 2: Visions of Angels

•  The Gift of the Angel Feather,by Kate O’Rielly•  The Powerful Love of Our Angels,by Anonymous•  Feeling Safe Again,by Greta Guldemont•  An Angelic Coach,by Terri Walker•  Tara, My Healing Angel,by Robin Ann Powell•  Angelica,by Charles F. Turpin•  My Life-Purpose Angel,by Pia Wilson•  Angel on the Highway,by Perry Koob•  The Angel Who Tucked Me In,by Angie Chiste•  The Day I Saw the Angels,by Laura Weintraub•  How an Angel Helped Me Find My True Name,by Uma Bacso•  A Great Healing During a Time of Grief,by Jennifer Helvey-Davis•  An Angelic Vision of Motherhood,by Sharon Blott•  Angora, the Angel of Peace,by Dianne SanClement

Chapter 3: Help from Mysterious Strangers

•  Rest-Area Angels,by Kathleen Smith•  Alec’s Guardian Angel,by Diane Bridges•  Stranger on an Icy Highway,by Susan Daly•  The Heavenly Nanny,by Catherine Lee•  The Angel Doctor,by James R. Myshrall•  An Angel to the Rescue,by Judy Garvey•  The Camp Angel,by Daniel R. Person•  Someone Saved My Life Tonight,by Justine Lindsay•  Overflowing with Joy,by Nancy Kimes•  Heaven Helped Me,by Carol Pizzi•  It Pays to Pray,by Anonymous

Chapter 4: Healing Messages from Mysterious Strangers

•  William White,by Dawn Elizabeth Allmandinger•  God Works in Mysterious Ways,by Patrice Karst•  An Angel in New York City,by Anonymous•  “Everything Is Going to Be Okay,”by Dorothy Durand•  Meeting My Angel,by Cammy Rosso•  Dancing Angel Boy,by Jill Wellington Schaeff•  A Messenger from Above,by Kimberly Miller•  My Fear Was Healed,by Helen Kolaitis•  Bless Her Heart,by Susan Sansom

Chapter 5: Visions of Deceased Loved Ones

•  Angels Helped Dad Stay with Us,by Dianne Galligan•  Thank You, Dad!by Peggy Keating•  Watching Over Us,by Catherine Kilian•  Dad Always Encouraged Me,by Andrea•  A Green Light from Grandpa,by Tammy Zienka•  “I’m Sorry I Couldn’t Wait,”by Kelly B. Norman•  Heavenly Matchmaker,by Melanie Wills•  My Baby’s Guardian Angel,by Janice•  “I Will Always Be with You,”by L.D.D.•  A Warning from Above,by Anonymous•  Beautiful in the Light,by Sally M. Basso•  When I Needed Him Most,by Kimberly Miller

Chapter 6: Children Who Have Seen Angels and Apparitions

•  A Glorious, Heavenly Angel Manifested into Form,by Natalia Kuna•  Out of Harm’s Way,by Anonymous•  Angel Baby,by Suzanna Lonchar•  What a Child Sees,by Pamela Weber•  I Saw My Aunt Even Though I Hadn’t Met Her or Heard about Her!by Mary Anne Luppino•  The Grandfather I’d Never Known,by Luann Brown•  The Swimming-Pool Angel,by Jenn Krejci•  A Giver, Not a Taker,by Lee Lahoud•  Ariel’s Visit from Grandpa,by Mary Ellen•  From the Mouths of Babes,by Doreen Wetter•  “I’ll Be Here Waiting for All of You,”by Diane Lynn Willard Zarro•  A Classroom Full of Angels,by Janette Rodriguez•  Soothing Baby Carly Back to Sleep,by Brenda Colling•  Don’t Be Sad,by Bill Fletcher

Chapter 7: Visions of Jesus and Other Ascended Masters

•  The Crown of Mary,by Tia Johnson•  An Indescribable Love,by Janine Cooper•  Never Alone,by Kimberly McCright•  A Saint by My Mother’s Side,by Virginia E. Perry•  “Is Jesus Over Your House?”by Sherry L. Gunderson•  Jesus Healed Me,by Debbie Graham Hoskin•  So Much Love!by Marsha Zaler•  Mother Mary Lifted Me Up,by Michelle Haynes•  The Incredible Brightness!by Susan•  The Healing Trio,by Anonymous•  An Inner Operation,by Cheryl Cash•  An Emotional Healing with Jesus,by Louise Ratcliffe•  The Deepest Feeling of Safety,by Janie Daily•  Beautiful Little Light,by Karen Noe

Chapter 8: Dream Visitations from Deceased Loved Ones

•  Dad Is Still with Us,by Michelle Massip Handel•  The Light and the Rose,by Cheryl Anne•  Dad’s Reassurance,by Carol W.•  Never Truly Lost,by Chuck Pekala•  I Saw My Nephew,by Anonymous•  Pop-Pop, My Miracle Angel,by Jessica Grzybowski•  Grandma’s Red Rose,by Susan E. Watters•  All Is Forgiven,by Jacki Whitford•  A Divine Message from Dad,by Judith Waite•  Warm, Loving Energy,by Laura Riffel•  “Eat Fish!”by Lynn Geosits•  She Touched Us,by Jennifer Aldrich•  Extra Time with Dad,by Tatia Manahan-Heine•  He Held On to My Sister,by Teresa•  The End of the Nightmares,by Charlton Archard•  A Message from the Other Side,by Christine Lamberth•  “Don’t Try to Explain It,”by Tracy Cockerton

Chapter 9: Dreams, Meditations, and Near-Death Experiences Involving Angels

•  Messages from Archangel Gabriel,by Tia Johnson•  The Big Blue Angel of Peace and Love,by H. Titus•  Dreams of Healing Guidance,by Sandara Smith•  The Golden Cord,by Gerborg Frick•  My Reunion with Dad,by Shirley Finch•  The Day I Chose to Live,by Maryne Hachey•  Gentle Beings of Light,by Dorothy Womack•  Aunt Nina,by Sonia Huston•  A Dream That Saved My Life,by Jill Wellington Schaeff•  A Truly Unforgettable Experience,by Nicola Kimpton

Chapter 10: Prayers Answered by Angels

•  No More Turbulence,by Brenda Colling•  From the Heart,by Anonymous•  A Heavenly Jump-Start,by Sharon•  Instant Assistance,by Joanne•  Angel in the Delivery Room,by Jacqueline Regina•  The Parking-Space Angel,by Brendan Glanville•  Protected from a Tornado,by Judy Mitchell•  Lost and Found,by Bonnie Suzanne Koester•  Look What the Angels Dragged In!by Carol Czerniec•  A Comforting Message,by Anonymous•  Lucky Angel,by Laura Curran

Chapter 11: Lifesaving Angel Voices

•  “You Are Safe … Just Let Go,”by Nelly Coneway•  Clear as Day,by Victoria Granados•  A Calm and Soothing Voice,by Verlain Lane•  Thank God for the Angels,by Rebecca Thrasher•  Keeping Me Safe,by Diane Smith•  The Angel of White Light,by Jim St. Onge
Page 3

•  Slow Down!by Arlene Martin•  Thank God I Listened,by Debbie Hoskin•  Rescued by an Earth Angel,by Lorein Cipriano•  A Lifesaving Warning,by Jane Anne Morgan•  Saved by My Guardian Angel,by Alison Clarke Taylor•  The Nurse Who Talks to Angels,by Anonymous•  Angel Guidance Kept Me Safe,by Martin W. Acevedo•  An Angel Watching Over Me,by Azaya Deuel•  “Breathe, Kate!”by Kate Whorlow•  On the Wings of Angels,by Azaya Deuel•  The Night the Angels Warned Me of Impending Danger,by Natalia Kuna

Chapter 12: Sensing the Presence of Angels or Deceased Loved Ones

•  Pet Reunion,by Patricia Genetos•  A Promise of Love,by Laura M. Mehlhorn•  Grandpa’s Loving Voice,by Candice Graham•  And the Angels Sang,by Susan•  A Noise That Saved My Life,by Brenda Gagas•  Thank You, Great-Grandma!by Tracey Staples•  He Kept His Promise,by Peggy L. Lorenz•  No Other Explanation,by Lisa Gayle Davis Flores•  Eternally Blooming,by Barb Hacking•  An Angel’s Kiss,by Maya Tonisson

Chapter 13: Angel Lights

•  The Choice,by Christine Sinon•  Lights of Purity and Joy,by Jonathan Robinson•  White Lights and the Miraculous Recovery,by Donna DeRuvo•  Illumination,by Lisa Crofts•  Escorted by Angels,by Elaine M. Elkins•  Steam-Room Angels,by Stephanie Gunning•  Saved by the Light,by Mili Ponesse•  Guardian on the Road,by Douglas Lockhart•  The Light of My Mother’s Love and Wisdom,by Judith Mitchell•  Thank You, Raphael!by Sue Barrie

Chapter 14: Signs from Above

•  The Little Cross,by Tuihana Marsh•  An Angel Who Descended from the Clouds,by Susan Moore•  The Purple-Haired Angel,by Leanne Hernandez•  Safe and Sound,by Suzanne Chaney•  The Comforting Angel Cloud,by Rebecca Powers•  Happy in Heaven,by Helen•  A Sign from Uncle Frank,by Angie Chiste•  The Message from the Rose Petals,by Bonnie Suzanne Koester•  A Sign of Protection,by Micci DeBonis•  A Call from My Angel,by Suzanne Goodnough•  A Sign from the Blessed Mother,by Antoinette Voll•  Daniel,by Charmaine Jabr•  Healing Angel,by Lily Alexandrovitch•  A Tiny Miracle,by Cammi Collier•  An Abundant Sign,by Elles Taddeo•  All You Have to Do Is Ask,by Reta


Chapter 15: Being Receptive to Heaven

Chapter 16: A One-Week Plan to Open Yourself to Angel Visions

•  How Chanting Helped Me See My Angel,by Molly Donohue

Chapter 17: How to See an Angel


About the Author


Have you had an angel experience? Ever since my life was saved by an angel during an armed carjacking in 1995, I’ve devoted my time to researching and teaching these experiences. Just within the past five years, it seems that an increasing number of us have seen, heard, or felt the presence of a celestial being, based on the ever-growing number of angel stories I’ve received.

Fifty-five percent of the 1,700 American adults surveyed by Baylor University in 2008 reported that they had been “protected from harm by a guardian angel.” The survey included a statistically significant number of people who didn’t consider themselves religious, which illustrates how angels help everyone equally.

The angels are here among us right now, andyourguardian angels are with you as you read this sentence. They’re making their presence known in order to help calm earthly fears about the future and to guide you to the path of your Divine life purpose.

This book contains true accounts of people whose lives have been saved or changed by angelic intervention. Some of these stories are favorites culled from my previous booksAngel VisionsandAngel Visions II.As you’ll read, the people involved are ordinary folks. You don’t need to be a saint or lead a perfect life in order to connect with angels. Every person has guardian angels who provide protection and guidance.

The wordangelmeans “messenger of God.” These beings help us hear the messages of God’s will, especially during times when we’re in crisis or too frightened or stressed to hear the Divine directly. After all, our Creator is 100 percent love, which is the highest vibrational level of all.

It’s easy to connect with God when you’re in a state of bliss, such as during meditation. However, when you need heaven the most, your stress vibrations lower your ability to hear this voice from above. That’s when angels are sent to your side, as bridges between the earthly ego and the Divine higher self.

Angel experiences come in many varieties, and in this book you’ll read about people who have:

• Seen an angel either in meditation or with their physical eyes• Met a person who appeared suddenly in order to rescue them or deliver an important message, and then the helpful stranger disappeared without a trace• Had a dream-time encounter with an angel, departed loved one, or ascended master (for example, Jesus, a saint, or some other spiritual being) while they were sleeping• Heard a voice that offered a lifesaving message• Saw a vision or sign that proved timely and significant• Had a strong intuitive feeling that led them to safety• Received an idea or thought that was instrumental in providing protection

As you readSaved by an Angel,you’ll likely notice more of the interactions you have with yourownguardian angels. Since your angels are with you every moment of every day, you’re continuously interfacing with them. So, your sensitivity to, and awareness of, these encounters will be heightened by reading about other people’s experiences.

My prayer is that we will all remember to call upon our guardian angels. Our lives became more joyous, peaceful, and secure once we begin regularly connecting with heaven. We lose old fears about the future or about mortality, and begin focusing upon living life to its fullest. We worry less and feel happy more, knowing that our guardian angels are watching over us.

The angels aren’t shy, and they want us to know that they are with us. Because we have free will, they can only intervene if we give them permission in some way—by praying or asking for assistance, for instance, or through visualizations or affirmations. When we give our angels permission to help us, weallbenefit. After all, when we’re at peace, we add more peace to the world.

I can imagine a world filled with happy people who are individually connecting with God and their angels. Now that’s truly peace on Earth!

With love,Doreen

   *Author’s Note:Certain individuals have requested anonymity, or that only their first name or initials be used to identify them.

Chapter 1

Page 4



It was in the early ’90s that I had a clear, lifesaving vision, with angels from above lending a helping hand.

It was an early summer’s morning in Sweden. My boyfriend and I were driving near our home on a small gravel road. All of a sudden I said to him, “I think you need to slow down because my co-worker Kenneth is running late.”

I had a clear vision of crashing with Kenneth and being flung out through the windshield, as I wasn’t wearing my seat belt (it was unusual for me not to do so, but I guess I thought we were safe on the back roads). I saw the blood, saw myself flying through the windshield, and heard my boyfriend’s screams … the vision was so vivid and eerie. In a hurry I put on my seat belt.

My boyfriend looked at me, said “Okay,” and slowed down. He was familiar with my visions and knew that my instincts were almost never wrong, so he heeded my advice and drove 30 miles per hour instead of 40-plus.

Sure enough, no more than five seconds later, around the corner came my co-worker racing up the gravel road. We pulled off to the side as much as possible, but it was a narrow road with a barrier to our right, so there was no way to get out of his path. Kenneth was driving too fast, and he slammed on his brakes, but he still hit us, moving us some 80 feet up the road. We were in a Volvo, which was a write-off and undrivable after the impact.

I broke three ribs (due to the seat belt) and smashed my knees on the dashboard, as well as endured severe whiplash. But I remain forever grateful, as the vision saved my life, for sure. I’ve had many smaller visions since, but this one was the clearest and was no doubt lifesaving. I can only thank my guardian angels above.


May 15, 2008, is a day I will always remember.

In the evening I went to dinner with three friends, and at around 6:20 we left the restaurant. The crosswalk sign said walk, there were no cars around, and we started crossing the street.

Suddenly a bright golden light blinded me—it appeared right in front of me, and time stood still. For the first time in my life, with my eyes open, I saw Archangel Michael and Jesus next to me. It felt very crowded on my left side. I looked over, but there weren’t any people—just the energy field, which was thick, like a buffer between me and the approaching huge black monster that was so close, and yet so far away from me. My brain refused to register what was happening. I’d never experienced anything like it before and couldn’t understand it: my physical body was there; but my spirit was far, far away, as if I was being teleported with the angels… .

I looked again at the oncoming vehicle—there were no sounds and I had no fear, like I was in another dimension. Then I heard people screaming and felt the angels lifting me up. As if in a dream, I watched in disbelief as a big black SUV sped away as fast as it could. For the first time, my brain realized that the SUV had just hit me and the driver had fled. I prayed that the angels help the police find the person—and then everything went black.

The next thing I remember was the police officer who came to the hospital in the middle of the night to tell me that they’d located the woman who had hit me and run away—which, according to him, was “a true miracle.” Thanks to the angels, I survived the accident and healed, and the driver was brought to justice.

“ZIPPER!”by Bernadette Brighton

I was eight. The whole family and I had gone skiing. I was just a little one, so I was relegated to the bunny hill. They didn’t use a chairlift on that particular slope, but rather an L-shaped conveyor. It was basically a horizontal plank of wood fastened to a metal pole. Skiers would just lean on the plank as it slid them up the hill.

I don’t remember how, but I fell down while riding the lift. I was lovingly bundled up into a pink snowsuit—but this day it would be to my detriment. The hood of this one-piece suit got caught on the plank of the lift, and it started dragging me up the hill. I was choking, and my little life was flashing before my eyes. Of course, I couldn’t get traction with my feet bound into the skis.

Suddenly, I heard a loud, booming voice shout, “ZIPPER!” It “clicked” instantly, and I undid the zipper of the suit, thus allowing me to breathe.

It took a few more moments for the operators to notice what was happening and stop the lift. They came to check on me, and I was frightened, as any child would be, but fine overall. I firmly believe my guardian angels saved me from suffocation that day, and for that I am eternally grateful.


To say that the angels changed or saved my life is an understatement! Four years ago I was living a life of hidden despair. Nothing made sense. I had everything—a “happy marriage,” three wonderful boys, a beautiful home, a cottage in the woods, family, friends, work … yet inside I was miserable. No one knew of my pain. Every day I would put on my mask and go out into the world with a smile pasted on my face, just hoping to get through the day and get back into bed, where I would find my only relief. It was as if I were an actress in someone else’s play.

One morning as I was standing in the bathroom getting ready for work, dreading yet another day, I said to God, “I know You are there in theory, but I can’tfeelYou.”

I suppose that was all the invitation that was needed, for what happened from then on has been absolutely miraculous. In the summer of 2008, I found myself at my cottage, immersed in the teachings of Eckhart Tolle’sA New Earth,Dr. Wayne W. Dyer’sChange Your Thoughts—Change Your Life,andA Course in Miracles.I was coming back to life again.

During this time I often went out on what I called my “angel ride” in nature. I’d always loved my angels and the signs they sent me: the number 111, butterflies, rainbows … these signs always made me feel so good. I hadn’t had a lot of contact with my angels during my despair, but as I was becoming myself again, I was once more able to “see” them. So one morning as I was out on my angel ride, enjoying the beauty and serenity of the woods, I heard a voice say, “You need to write a book.”

What? What was this? I’d never “heard” voices before, and I was very confused.

“You need to write a book,” the voice repeated.

Write a book? How can I do that?I wondered.I’m not a writer. And what would I write about anyway?

The voice continued: “About your spiritual journey.”

I was more confused than ever. I hardly felt like I was in a place to write about my journey. True, I’d come a long way since that day in my bathroom, but I really didn’t feel as if I had anything to share. Yet I love my angels, so instead of completely dismissing this advice, I let it “sit” for a few days. It was an extraordinary time, and the “voice” was rather persistent. After the third day, I heard: “Don’t fight it” … and I finally put pen to paper. You can imagine my surprise when about eight weeks and 500 handwritten pages later, I put down my pen and I had, in fact, written a book.

I have to say that it was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. My angels were with me night and day, and my life was changed in ways that have brought me to a place of pure happiness and joy! I’ve since continued on my journey and now find myself in the midst of other wonderful authors, including Esther and Jerry Hicks (The Teachings of Abraham®). Life is good … it is very, very good.

So yes, my angels saved my life, and they continue to guide me every day. I know they’re always with me, and the best part about it all is that after just a few short years—and finding out about the Law of Attraction—I got exactly what I asked for that day in my bathroom. Now, not only do I know God is there; IfeelGod … Ifeelthe Source within me just about every single moment of every single day. I asked and it was given! In four years, I went from a place of utter despair to being one of the happiest people on the planet, and I thank my angels daily as I stand in such vast appreciation for all that is!


It was about seven years ago when I discovered that angels really do exist. I was driving to work via the day-care center. It was very early in the morning, very cold, and I had my baby in the backseat. As we were coming up to a little bridge, suddenly my windshield fogged up completely. I couldn’t see out of any window, and there was nowhere to pull over on the bridge. I literally threw my hands up in the air and said, “Oh my God, someone is going to have to help me because I can’t see a thing!”

Then it felt like my car was floating across the bridge and through an intersection on the other side, before parking safely on the side of the road. I believe angels carried us to safety that day. There is no other explanation. I sat there for some time, quite shaken, before I drove again—this time with a huge grin on my face.

Page 5


I’ve always been open to angels and held a belief that there is something beyond our physical realm, but one day I became convinced that an angel was watching over me.

I live in New South Wales, Australia, and at this particular time I was working in the Blue Mountains, a very picturesque area. On my trip to work I would exceed the various posted speed limits, as I would nearly always be running late. The roads were wide and well marked, but on this particular day it was raining quite heavily and a mist had settled over the mountain. In my little car the windows fogged up easily, so I had to have the de-mister up high and keep wiping the windshield so I could see where I was going.

As you can imagine, driving in a mountainous area there are lots of bends and curves. I was coming into a 55-mile-per-hour stretch, which meant that I would have been traveling at around 65 miles per hour. I was heading around a medium-long bend to the right (in Australia, the steering wheel is on the right-hand side of the car), so I was limited as to what I could see ahead.

Then I felt as if someone kicked the back of my seat. There was a strange crackle that came from my stereo, and I saw a flash of white light and heard a voice tell me to slow down. I was a little unnerved, so I obeyed. Around the bend I came upon an accident that had just occurred that blocked the whole road … I had just enough time to stop!

I believe that I was being watched over, and if I hadn’t received the message from my angel, I would have hit one of the vehicles head-on and been severely injured or even killed.


I was about seven or eight years old, living in a little village in Germany. It was a nice sunny afternoon, and all the kids, including me, were out playing. A few of us decided to start a game of hide-and-seek, and we all tried to find a place where we would be hard to find.

Behind our house was a trash container only for paper, and I thought that this would be a great spot. So I climbed in and closed the lid. There was absolutely no way that anyone could find me.

Suddenly, the lid flew open and somebody grabbed me, and I had the feeling that I was flying out of the container. Then, once on the ground, I found myself staring at what I thought was a garbage man; however, it wasn’t trash day, so the person had no reason to be there.

He stared back at me, and although it wasn’t scary, I was so surprised that I ran away. It’s safe to say that this angel saved my life, because I definitely wouldn’t have been able to open the lid of the container by myself, and I could have suffocated.

So thank you very much, angel, for rescuing me!


My angel story began last year. I moved to a beautiful new home, and soon after, I found Doreen’s bookThe Lightworker’s Way.

Upon reading this book, I had a truly special awakening, and the angels made their presence very clear to me in various ways. I could feel them through my heart center. I could sense them all around me for weeks, throughout every minute of the day. I could hear them singing—the loveliest sound I’ve ever heard. I could see them in my mind’s eye. As I lay down to rest, the most beautiful colors would appear, guiding me through some intense and deep healing. I looked in the mirror, and for the first time I could see the very depths of my soul … the true beauty that was me, God’s creation. So with the angels’ guidance, I began my own spiritual journey.

I’ve been on this journey ever since and have made such positive changes. I’ve learned how to listen, and bring the angels’ energy into my life and the lives of others through my art and the healing skills I’ve learned. Thanks to the wonderful wisdom shared in the book, I now know that I am a lightworker. I realize that it’s no accident that I found it; that it was my time to wake up fully to my true purpose here on Earth.

What makes this story wonderful is that I was a real doubting Thomas who lived through pretty difficult life experiences, but now I have faith and healing that I can share. I will be eternally grateful for being awakened to my purpose, and to the angels energy that surrounds us daily.


Let me begin by saying that my husband, Travis, has been an “adrenaline junkie” since the day I met him. He enjoys all things fast, and loves to take risks.

I’d never really been too fearful, but I would avoid going to the motocross track when he and my son would ride their motorcycles. This was the first time I’d ever decided to see “my boys” ride. They were having a great time, and my two smaller children and I were watching from the fence line. There were just a few riders out on the track. Then Travis drove right in front of us around the first corner, hit a huge jump, and “cased it” into the ramp of the second jump.

At first it didn’t really look as if he were hurt very badly. He stood and lifted his motorcycle up. He rested his head for a minute on the handlebars and then proceeded to try to start the bike.

All of a sudden I noticed a man sitting to the left of the jump, lounging in a lawn chair with an umbrella—I hadn’t seen him there at all until that moment. He got up and told my husband that he would drive him back to where we had parked. He put Travis in the front seat of our truck and loaded my husband’s and my son’s motorcycles in the back, which I couldn’t have done alone. Then he walked away. I can’t even remember what he looked like, and I have no idea where he came from or where he went. But I was grateful for his help and drove on to the local hospital.

When we arrived, they x-rayed Travis and found that he’d broken every bone in the upper-left side of his body. They were afraid that his rib was so close to his aorta that it might puncture it, so they life-flighted him to the university hospital for surgery. When my husband was stable and starting his recovery process, he told me that he’d been helped by an angel.

I thought he meant this metaphorically; however, he told me that heknewthat the man who had helped him out at the track was an angel. The man hadn’t been there until that very second, and my husband and son had been riding for a while and knew everyone at the track.

An angel showed up that day, and we are truly grateful for the help heaven gave us!


It had been several years since I’d had a cervical-screening checkup. Usually I went quite regularly, and I’d received letters from my doctor reminding me to book an appointment. But time passed, and I eventually forgot about it. Then one day in February 2007, I received another reminder letter, and as soon as I opened it, a voice told me that I had to go this time. The voice persisted until I made the appointment with my doctor … with good reason: my test revealed that I had precancerous cells, and I had to undergo treatment to remove them.

If I hadn’t listened to that voice, I would either be fighting cancer … or I wouldn’t be here at all. I thank God and the angels for warning me and insisting that I make that appointment. Now I’m fit and healthy, I go for my checkups every year, and I can expect to be here for my children and family for a long time to come.


When I was 13, my family was going through a hard time. My dad had been into drugs and was an alcoholic. He and my mom would fight, and often there was physical abuse. The deeper into drugs and drinking my dad got, the worse things were at home. Mom was working two jobs to try to keep up with the bills. One night as she was heading out to her second job, things took a bad turn.

I was heating up the dinner that my mom had made for us earlier that day. My dad came home with one of his friends. They ended up getting high and were drinking heavily. My dad decided to take his friend home and made me go with them. I tried so hard to persuade him not to drive. I knew he shouldn’t get behind the wheel. He yelled and told me to get into the car.

It was wintertime, and the roads were terrible that night. It was a long drive, and I lay in the backseat, just praying we’d make it safely to our destination. At one point I sat up and saw a dog up ahead on the road.

I said, “Dad, slow down! There’s a dog in the middle of the street!”

He told me he didn’t see any dog! It was then that I felt the softest hands cradling the sides of my face, like a gentle force pulling me back and laying me down on the seat. I couldn’t understand what was happening, but I felt safe and protected. All of a sudden it was as if I were in a deep sleep. I remember falling off the backseat and hitting something hard. But as much as I tried, I couldn’t open my eyes or move. It was like something was keeping me from seeing or feeling anything.

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The next thing I knew, my dad was screaming at me to hang on and not die. It was still like I was in a deep sleep, but I could hear him faintly. He scooped me up and took me to the nearby home of a stranger, who witnessed everything!

It turned out that we were in a horrific car accident. At the last minute my dad had swerved to miss the dog and lost control. There wasn’t anything left of the car. Dad said that the steering wheel had been pinned to his chest when he came to. He didn’t know how he did it, but he pushed with all of his might and it moved just enough so he could squeeze his way out to get me. All three of us were hurt, but luckily there were no life-threatening injuries.

I truly believe it was my angel who not only protected us that night, but saved our lives. I think I might have panicked if I’d seen what was happening. I left the hospital with stitches in my face and a broken hand. Although I had to learn to use my right hand again, I know things could have been much worse. Dad got help for his addictions right after this accident.

I still have the scars to this day. It’s a gentle reminder of my angel’s presence and grace, and the love from heaven above!


One hot summer’s day, my four girls, my sister, her son, and I had gone to the beach. I’d been injured with a third-degree sprain and was off work, and my sister was coming along to help me out with the little ones.

I’d just done the visual sweep. My third youngest, Cassie, who was three at the time, was playing in the shallow water with her older sisters; and the littlest ones were right beside my sister, who was making a sand mermaid. Feeling that all was safe, I’d begun watching my sister create her masterpiece when I heard a voice say, “Look.”

Startled, I glanced at my sister’s face, since I thought she’d been the one who had spoken. Then, as soon as I did, I heard a much louder, much more urgent “Look!” And when I looked up, there was my Cassie floating facedown in the water; her older sisters had gone to have fun in the deeper water.

I jumped up and ran, my heart pounding, not feeling anything … no pain, just my heart beating. I scooped Cassie up. She gasped for air and cried, “Mama, I was so scared! I couldn’t breathe!” And I cried … I still cry, I am so blessed.

I am eternally grateful to that voice for saving my baby girl.


I was probably ten years old, and my mom and I had gone to visit a friend and her daughter. It was our first time at their house. I remember that it had a long driveway, which was great because the other little girl and I spent most of the time outside with sidewalk chalk.

As we were coloring rainbows and hopscotch blocks, a yellow taxi drove up to the curb and stopped fast. The driver didn’t get out, but he looked like he was in a hurry, glancing around and speaking quickly. He called out, “Hey, kid! You know wheremumble, mumbleStreet is?”

I immediately felt someone very, very tall standing behind me, holding their hands in a crisscross position over my shoulders and torso. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. My heart was beating very fast as my new friend took a few steps toward the taxi and asked, “What?!”

The taxi driver waved her closer. She walked a few more steps, and he repeated, “How do you get tomumble, mumbleStreet?”

She again asked, “What?!” and in my head I was screaming at her not to get close!Bad! Bad! Run away! Why can’t I move? I’ll run to her and grab her, and we’ll escape to the house! Why can’t I scream for help?! Why can’t I snap out of it and run to her?! No! Help! Danger!

My friend got closer to the car, and I saw the taxi driver’s door open a crack. At that moment my friend’s mother peeked her head out of the front door. She yelled to the man, “Hey! Get out of here!” and called to her daughter to come into the house.

The taxi sped away with squealing tires that left black marks in the street. My heart stopped racing, and I felt the protective arms gently release me and disappear. I could suddenly speak and move again. It was as if I’d been frozen, and now I wasunfrozen!

I know now that if I’d run to grab my friend, we both likely would have been kidnapped. If I’d screamed for help, she probably would have immediately been snatched up. I’m sure an angel or spirit guide told that mother to check on her child—and luckily, she listened!


I was on my motorcycle coming from Galveston, Texas. I was taking back roads instead of the interstate on my way to my cousin’s house in Katy, outside of Houston, before heading home to Elgin, Texas.

I had my directions, and I came to an intersection where I thought I should turn, but something made me go straight instead. I’d gone a mile or so down the road before I realized that I had to backtrack because I had in fact needed to turn.

When I finally turned onto the correct road, I came upon a horrible wreck in the lane I was in. It had just happened minutes before. It occurred to me as I saw the police heading to the scene that it had been my angels who had guided me to go straight and then turned me back around when it was safe to do so. Given the severity of the accident I saw, and being on a motorcycle, I’m not sure that I would have made it. But I did … because of my angels.

As soon as I had this realization, I felt tingling throughout my body, and I teared up. All I could say was “Thank you, angels.”

THECUSHION AND THEMAGNETby Clara María del Carmen Mariaka Barrios

I was in my native country, Guatemala. It was November 2005, and I was traveling with my best friend to Guatemala City from Quetzaltenango, which is four hours away by car. We woke early because my friend had to be in a ceremony at 8A.M.After three hours of driving, the highway grew straighter, but the condition of the road deteriorated.

Suddenly a pickup truck sped by and went in front of me (the highways in my country are only two lanes). My first reaction was to brake, and because of the condition of the road and the fact that my truck was empty, we started to roll. I can’t remember the speed we were going, but I’m sure it was above 90 miles per hour. My friend, who had been napping in the passenger seat, was screaming at this point. My pickup rolled several times, and from the opposite direction I saw three big trucks coming toward us at a high speed.

At the moment I anticipated colliding with one of the trucks, everything happened in slow motion. I just closed my eyes, waiting for the impact … and then I felt “someone” pull my pickup from behind, and we landed in a cornfield. It was the season in Guatemala when corn is just harvested, and we ended up on a cushion of dry corn.

After the “landing,” my friend and I hugged each other. Within a couple of minutes five or six men who had witnessed the accident came to the cornfield, trying to help us. They were asking if we were all right. From their point of view, the crash had looked devastating. They thought that we’d be dead and the car smashed … but nothing had happened! My friend and I were okay, without injury—only the emotional shock—and my truck was intact; the “cushion” had kept it from being destroyed.

All the men who helped us said that we’d disappeared from the road very quickly. It was as if a “magnet” had pulled my pickup away; otherwise, one of the big trucks would have hit us … and all of this had happened in the blink of an eye. My friend and I talked afterward, and we both described the same thing. We felt like “someone”—a major force—had pulled the truck off the road and into the cornfield.

It was a very dark time in my life, and I didn’t understand it then, but now I know that Archangel Michael moved my truck, saving our lives! Everything finally made sense to me when I heard that angels don’t intervene without our free will except when we’re in dangerous situations. My first thought was of that accident.


On a beautiful day, my two children, my husband, and I arrived in Sydney, a two-hour trip from our home in the country. Our plan was that the kids and I would have a fun day in the city and then to go to the famous Luna Park amusement park that evening. My husband dropped us off at a train station, the kids and I rode a bus-train to the central station, and we proceeded to walk the distance to the center of the city.

We took our time strolling around, making our way to George Street, where we were surrounded by a mob of people. The kids seemed to pick up on the frantic energy of everyone rushing to and fro to get to their destinations. We came to an intersection where the traffic was stopped. The traffic lights in Sydney make a clicking noise when they change, so upon hearing this sound, my son proceeded to race across the road at a furious pace. Just at that moment, I realized that the light had turned green, signaling for the cars to go.

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I became frozen with fear and shock as I realized that my son had just launched himself in front of about five lanes’ worth of traffic. I screamed “No!” but was unable to move my feet—it felt as if everything just stood still. My son stopped halfway across the road and noticed that the cars were starting to take off. He looked at me, and I knew that this could be it: my son was about to be hit by a car at full force!

And then, I don’t know how, but somehow he ran back into my waiting arms. I pressed him to my body. I wasn’t going to let him go. We cried together as we both realized that he’d been given another chance to be here with us on this earth. I knew that by the grace of my guardian angel, he had “flown” across the intersection back to safety.

I looked across the street and found myself staring at the most beautiful church I’d ever seen. I didn’t know its name. I just knew it as the beautiful church next door to the town hall in Sydney. When I Googled it, I discovered that it was called St. Andrew’s Cathedral.

The biggest sign of all came as I was meditating on Christmas Day, 2010, and I was given the name Andrew. I asked,Is there an angel Andrew?and I heard the answeryes.I believe that St. Andrew or an angel called Andrew was looking after us that day, and his name came to me in meditation so that I would realize that he’d given me my son back. My husband and I are currently building a house, and I’m also convinced it’s a sign that the address is St. Andrew’s Way.

I believe in angels, and I believe there was one by my side that day in Sydney.

LUCKY TO BEALIVEby Jinelle Markham

The morning of December 29, 2009, was crisp, sunny, and clear. Lying in bed, still in the state in between sleep and wakefulness, I could hear my guardian angel talking to me. I couldn’t make out what this voice was saying, however, and continued on with my day normally.

On my way to work late that morning, my younger sister called me and asked if I was okay, because she’d had a bad feeling about me. I said, “No, everything is fine,” and didn’t think anything of it. Little did I know her premonition was right.

As I exited the highway, my gas pedal stuck, which had never happened before. Nothing I tried wouldunstick it, and nothing was down there to block it either. So I slammed on my brakes right before I reached the train tracks. In a panic, I set my emergency brake, hoping that it would stop my car for a while. It didn’t.

My car leaped onto the tracks uncontrollably. The next thing I knew, I looked to my left and a train was not even two feet from my face. It was about to broadside me going 30 miles per hour. The second I saw it, everything went dark. I instantly blacked out, before I was even hit. I believe the angels didn’t want me to go through that traumatic experience, because it felt as if they pulled me from my body.

As I was waking up from my accident, still in my car, I felt as if I’d just come from—or was still in—heaven. My body felt magnificent and so at peace. Words are inadequate to describe how wonderful this feeling was. All I could see was white, and I could hear that same angel whom I’d awoken to earlier that morning again talking in my ear. I still couldn’t understanding a word of what was uttered, although it could have been something along the lines of “See, I told you not to go to work today!”—said in the most loving way, of course.

As I became more conscious, I realized there was a jacket over my body, because I think bystanders thought that I had died! But as I finally came to, I felt pain, lots of pain. The ambulance was there shortly afterward.

I was extremely fortunate that day. I walked away (barely) with a dislocated shoulder, a broken collarbone, and a concussion. The recovery was very long and arduous; but I am very, very lucky to be alive.

I am eternally grateful to the angels for saving my life that day. Because of them, I’m able to say that I have a lifetime of greatness ahead of me to fulfill. I love you, angels. Thank you!


I was planning a trip to Costa Rica with two friends. There were actually four of us—three adults and a nine-year-old. I went to a bookstore to look at the travel section prior to our departure. A book on Costa Rica fell from the top shelf onto the floor in front of me. When I picked it up, I found that it was opened to a page that gave advisory tips for swimmers in the ocean. It cautioned them about riptides.

I bought the book and brought it with me on our trip. After reading it, I was concerned about the nine-year-old swimming alone and made sure to tell everyone about possible riptides. I remembered reading specifically about what to do if caught in one, and shared this information.

Costa Rica was amazing, with diverse landscapes, tropical rain forests, sandy beaches, monkeys, frogs, and brightly colored birds. One day I went snorkeling with one of my friends. The water was incredible shades of aqua blue and perfectly clear, and the fish were abundant. We had been swimming for quite a while, and it was time to go back.

I saw my friend swim ahead until she was barely visible, and I began to panic when I realized I was swimming but not going anywhere. Thoughts of drowning entered my mind. I couldn’t see my friend anymore—she was out of my sight. I tried to swim to the shore, but I was expending all of my energy and not getting any closer to it. I yelled and waved to people on the beach, but they were too far away.

A clear image of the travel book, and the page with the riptide warning and the paragraph with the instructions on what to do if caught in one, suddenly popped into my mind. But I was too tired from fighting the current to process the information. The fear of drowning and the realization that this was really happening opened the door for panic to take over.

It was then that I heard a male voice telling me precisely what to do. The directions were clear and direct. I followed them, and I made my way to the shore. Each instruction was repeated until I followed it. Once on the beach, I fell to the sand and stayed there until I had the energy to walk the miles back down to the part of the beach where my friends were.

I’m certain it was an angel who caught my attention with the travel book that fell off the shelf. I paid attention but required more help, and this angel assisted me in the ocean, directing me to safety. I feel very grateful. I know my life was saved by an angel.

Chapter 2



It was 1998, and I was in the emergency room with a diagnosis of pneumonia. All the drugs used to combat this illness were given to me, and I was sent home with strict instructions on the importance of bed rest and taking my many medications. When I left the hospital, I felt I should really be staying, but there were no available beds. It appeared that, because of my age and general health, I would recover quickly on a homebound regime.

That evening, after I tossed and turned, kept awake by the sound of the vaporizer, I finally fell into a very deep sleep. At 3:33A.M.exactly, I was woken up by some presence in my room. At first I thought one of the other members of my family was up moving about. When I turned over in bed, my heart began racing. There in my room were two very large bodies.

The two figures quickly made me understand without words that they were protecting me as I slept. I knew that they were angels. One of them was a male who stood about ten feet tall. But how could a ten-foot-tall figure fit in my room (which only had an eight-foot-high ceiling)? His robe was a very lovely blue gray, and he had a loving face that felt healing to me. The other angel was all white. Her energy was soft and nurturing. She reminded me of the angels I read about as a small child: half feathers and half human. I reached out to touch the angels and they were gone. I fell back into a restless sleep.

In the morning as I woke up, I became very excited about the “dream” I’d had. When my daughter and granddaughter came in to see how I was feeling, I told them about my visitation by the angels. My daughter was old enough to be skeptical, but my four-year-old granddaughter was awed and delighted by the story. After the excitement had passed, my daughter helped me out of bed to visit the restroom. At that moment, my granddaughter started screaming with excitement and glee. As I rose from the bed, a six-inch-long white feather came with me, stuck to my feverish leg!

The three of us didn’t know what to think. I was very confused because there are no feather products in our home due to allergies. My daughter was speechless, and my granddaughter was dancing with joy because the angel had left a gift. She said she knew the dream wasn’t really a dream, because angels visit people at night all the time. Of course it was an angel!

I carefully removed the precious feather from my leg and put it on my bedroom altar.

The next night, I felt that I was getting sicker, not better. I decided that if I didn’t feel better soon, I would call my doctor. At 3:33A.M., I was once again woken up by the feeling of a presence in my room. I turned over … and there were the angels again! As I watched them standing across from me, the male angel asked if I was ready to go with them to heaven. In many ways, I was overjoyed to hear them speak, and to invite me to join them.

The angels said they were there to help me decide whether or not I would stay living in my body. I thought about the projects I was working on, and about the unfinished business in my life. None of those things seemed more important than going with the angels. The love and contentment that they emanated was so appealing, and I wanted more of it. All of a sudden, though, I thought of my seven young grandchildren. If I left with the angels at that moment, I wouldn’t even have a chance to say good-bye to them and receive a final kiss and hug. I told the angels that I wanted to stay on the Earth plane for now.

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The angels told me that if I were choosing to stay, the only way I could remain alive was if I went back to the emergency room quickly. They disappeared as suddenly as they had come to me. As soon as possible, my oldest daughter took me to the hospital. As it turned out, the pneumonia had gotten much worse, and the doctors said that I’d made it to the hospital just in time.

The next morning at 3:33, I woke up, hoping to see my angels, but they weren’t there. I wondered if moving to the hospital had confused them. I was very sad to think that I might not see them again, and I wondered how I might bring them back to me. I realized I should have asked them more questions. I felt that I’d missed an opportunity, and I questioned my decision not to go with them. I cried, feeling as if I were mourning friends I’d had for years.

My daughter and granddaughter came to visit me later that same morning. I hadn’t talked any more about the angels since the feather incident. I was too weak, just focusing my energy on getting better. My daughter also had a lot on her mind, and I didn’t want to burden or worry her. As we talked about my hospital experience, my daughter remembered something from earlier in the morning. She saidshehad woken up at 3:33, too, and had gotten a strong feeling about an important decision she was trying to make. She was very puzzled by the fact that she’d received such an insight in the middle of a sound sleep. But now her mind was made up—after many months of struggle, she finally knew what to do.

I smiled. My angels hadn’t left after all; they were still with me and my loved ones. To this day, I cherish the gift of the angel feather.


I was working as an assistant teacher. We were all sitting in a large circle on the first day of school, participating in an exercise designed to allow us to get to know one another. We would go around the circle, and everyone would share something about themselves I’d already had my turn, and as it came time for the turn of a woman who was just a little to the left of me, I saw two angels.

As she began to speak, I saw what at first looked like the heat waves that rise above a blacktop on a sweltering day. The air above and around her seemed to move in this way, and then it turned into multiple colors, and then massive blue wings—two sets. I could then see the formation of beings attached. There were two of them, coming down on both sides of her. If she would have raised her hand, her whole arm would have been inside them.

This all happened in a split second, and I did sort of a double take, and of course as I brought my conscious awareness back to what was happening, I could no longer see them. But I was so stunned. It was like those oldBewitchedepisodes where everyone freezes, exceptIwas the one who was frozen as everyone else continued talking. I couldn’t hear a word they were saying. It was like I was just suspended in time for a moment, trying to catch my breath, still in the same vibration as these miraculous, beautiful beings; and even though I couldn’t see them anymore, I could feel the tremendous love that the angels had for this woman.

I’ve only told this story to a few people, and the retelling of it does not do justice to the actual event. It is extremely difficult to re-create the feelings of this experience. In fact, as I sit here recalling it, I am moved to tears by the knowledge that we all have angels around us, and that they love us more than words can say.


I was a victim of a brutal rape. My unknown attacker broke into my apartment late at night while I was sleeping. Two years later, even though I had moved out of state and was now living with my husband, I suffered from terrible nightmares where bad people were chasing me and trying to hurt me. I would awake exhausted nearly every morning.

One night before Christmas, I watchedMiracle on 34th Street,and later I was having a dream about the movie when I heard a voice ask me, “Are you all right?” It was a man’s voice, and his words filled my body with an incredible warmth and peacefulness. I opened my eyes and saw a male figure at the foot of our bed. (My husband was sleeping beside me.)

Ordinarily, the sight of a strange man in my bedroom probably would have filled me with terror (as a result of my rape experience). But I just lay there, as peaceful and happy as could be, still enjoying the feeling of warmth throughout my body. He repeated his words, asking me if I was all right, and again I felt that incredible warmth through my body as I said yes.

He said that he was watching over me, and I remember smiling and then drifting off into the most wonderful deep, healing sleep. Was my heavenly visitor an angel, or was he the spirit of my dad, who had died when I was a baby? Regardless, I hadnomore nightmares after that! I’ve been so grateful for this experience.


My 11-year-old son, Steven, decided to join a baseball team over the summer, after playing soccer for several years. Most of the boys on his team had played the sport for years and were very good. Steven did pretty well, but he would freeze up at the plate and wouldn’t swing at the ball. So needless to say, he would strike out a lot. We would take him to the batting cages, and he would do great, but during the game he would lose his nerve.

I was sitting in the bleachers watching my son play one day. Steven had already struck out twice and was getting ready to go up to the plate again. I noticed how his self-esteem was hitting rock bottom, and I wanted him to hit the ball so much. I decided to ask his angels to help him do so and get to first base.

Just at that moment, I saw an angelic being leaning over Steven’s shoulder while he was standing at the plate. This angel looked right up at me and gave me a thumbs-up and a beautiful smile. I couldn’t believe what I’d just witnessed! I looked around me to see if anyone else had noticed this angel, but no one seemed to.

The next moment, I heard awhack!Steven had struck the ball, and it flew between first base and second, straight down into right field. He made it to second base, stole third, and then ran home. The look of joy on his face was priceless! He was so proud of himself.

After the game, I told him about the angel, and he said, “I knew something wonderful happened because I felt that something was holding the bat, and I heard someone tell me to ‘swing,’ and I did!”

It just goes to show that the angels reallydowant to help, and that all you need to do is ask. Now, Steven talks to his angels all the time.


It was sometime in late November 1998 when a dear friend sent me Doreen’s audio programHealing with the Angels.I was excited, since my health was going downhill. It seemed like all the healing methods I tried would only work for about six months. Angels were merely pretty objects to me prior to receiving the tape. I had angel decorations, given to me as gifts, all over the house, but I had never experienced actually seeing them or hearing them or receiving a healing from them.

I remember when listening to Doreen’s audio book the first time that I fell asleep after about 30 minutes, and nothing unusual happened. About three weeks later, my kidneys were hurting me. A year prior to this time, I’d had a bladder infection that I just couldn’t shake. It turned into a serious kidney infection, and I had to take antibiotics to bring the fever down. The infection finally left my body. So, here it was December 12, 1998, and my kidneys were hurting me again.

My husband and I weren’t getting along that morning, so I asked him to sit down on the couch with me before I went to work. We got peaceful, and I had my eyes closed. Within a few moments, I saw this beautiful being. She had long black hair and was wearing a long white dress. She told me that her name was Tara and that she was going to put the palms of her hands—fingers extended—on my kidneys all day. This was going to happen while I was selling shoes at the department store where I worked. She also told me that I was an earth angel. I opened my eyes in great astonishment.

I told my husband what had just occurred, and we sat there, stunned. Was this a real experience, or my imagination? I went to work with great anticipation, hopeful that Tara would heal my kidneys. Within a few hours, the pain was gone!

It has been over a year now, the pain in my kidneys has never come back, and I know that it never will! I’m sure that listening to Doreen’s tape helped me bring my angel to me.

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ANGELICAby Charles F. Turpin

One Friday night at my job, I walked up the six flights of stairs to the small protected area where I work with machinery. Out of the blue, I felt a sharp pain in my chest, so I lay my head down on my desk. But the pain grew until it was hurting a lot. I tried calling my co-worker downstairs for help, but he didn’t answer.

Then I happened to look out the window and saw a person—a woman. She didn’t resemble anything I had seen in church or on TV. She was outside the window of my work area 60 feet above the ground!

Her eyes were sparkling blue—not like any blue you could paint, and not like anything in a science-fiction movie, but beautiful. She didn’t have on the kind of robe you always picture on angels; she was naked. But her skin was as white as I had ever seen—so white that the details of her body were hidden.

Her hair was red, long, and fluttering as her wings slowly flapped. The wings weren’t like a dove’s, but more akin to a sparrow’s.

She never said hello, and she never had a glow around her, like in the movies. She was a real live being or soul. I tried to raise my head, but she came to me and laid her hand on it and turned my neck to where I could see her better. She just looked at me. She didn’t speak through her lips, but through her mind. She said, “It isn’t time yet.” Then for some reason, I just happened to ask her, “What’s your name?” and she said, “Angelica.”

It seemed like I blinked my eyes, and then it was time to go. I drove myself home, and my wife took me to the hospital. The tests showed that I’d had a heart attack that evening. But they did another test the following Monday, and it showed that my heart was miraculously undamaged. Since then, I’ve also survived cancer even though I only had a 10 percent chance of living. Somehow I feel that Angelica is still around, helping me to survive.


I had been meditating and trying some automatic writing to get to know my guardian angels better. I learned that the one helping me fulfill my life purpose was named Jim. At the time, I was feeling that my ambitions wouldn’t amount to anything, and I was very frustrated. I accused Jim of not working hard enough on my behalf.

That night I had a dream. It was one of those dreams that feels more than real. In it, I was talking to a human friend of mine whose name is also Jim. I was joking with him, the way I normally would in life, but he wasn’t responding appropriately. I got angry with him … then I noticed something. His eyes were quite different. And although on the surface he looked like my friend Jim, he was actually someone else. His eyes were wider and took up more of his face, and his cheekbones were particularly high.

I realized that this was my angel Jim, which explained the lack of humor. Through my meditations and automatic writing, I’ve come to know that Angel Jim is very serious. He took me to a room where there were hundreds of “people” sitting at computer terminals. Jim was showing me how many angels were working with him to help me fulfill my life purpose.

In the last few months, Jim has continued to appear to me in my dreams around the periods when I have made strides in my career. I always feel especially good after a dream involving him, and he’s even led the way for my romance angel to use my dreams to communicate with me. Angels are wonderful sources of love, guidance, and advice. I can’t imagine life without them now.


It was 1966, and I was 18, living in Los Angeles. I wasn’t in school, as I’d been kicked out for fighting the year before. I was pumping gas for work and had very few prospects. When my stepfather asked me to help my mother run a small farm in Missouri, I said I didn’t have anything else to do, so sure, I would do it.

I gave notice, and two weeks later, I set out on a trip halfway across the country, driving a Corvair that my stepfather had bought me for the trip. It was equipped with a one-wheel trailer loaded with some things I was to take back to my mother.

There wasn’t a 55-mile-per-hour limit, and I was taking full advantage of that fact. I was doing 80 to 90, and when I would brake, the taillights would make the trailer tarp glow red. I was going down a very steep grade and had to keep my foot on the brake. I glanced in the rearview mirror, and I saw what seemed to be a woman sitting there on the trailer, smiling at me. I looked back to the road quickly. I then rolled down the window, thinking that the cold wind on my face would snap me back to my senses.

I looked back in the mirror, put my foot on the brake again, and there she was. I could see her clearly in the taillights, although the light was red. She was dressed in a long flowing gown, and her head was covered with a shawl. She was still smiling at me, and then she waved. I thought,Perry, you’ve finally gone off the deep end for sure now.

I gathered as much of my courage as I could and pulled off to the side of the road just before a sharp curve. I put my head on the wheel, gritted my teeth, and got out of the car. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I fell down. It turned out that the road was all one big patch of ice! I got up, hanging on to the side of the car, and walked—or rather, slid—back to the trailer. I lifted the tarp under the trailer, but there was nobody there. This shook me up, to say the least.

Just then, the moon, which had been behind some clouds, broke through and shone down on the desert below. The moonlight allowed me to see about ten crosses all in a neat row, marking the places where people had gone off the road and been killed.

To this day, I look for that beautiful lady. I used to feel her beside me, but I no longer do, and I miss her being there.


In 1986, when I was 18, I got a job as a waitress at an all-night truck stop in a small Canadian hamlet, far away from my family. Our staff accommodations were located in an old hotel. We each had our own room, with doors that locked automatically when you closed them, like most hotel rooms.

One morning, I got off at 6 after working all night. I went to my room to get some sleep. I was so tired that I lay down on my bed, still in my uniform, without taking my shoes off. Sometime later, I awoke to the feeling of my shoes being slipped off. I lifted my head and saw a transparent lady engulfed in light. She took off my shoes and gently covered me with a blanket. I lay back, knowing she would watch over me while I slept. I wasn’t scared at all.

When I awoke, I was under the covers, my shoes neatly in the corner. I knew no one had come into my room, as the door had automatically locked when I shut it. It was an angel taking care of me after a long shift at work.


It was a usual Tuesday morning, and I was getting the kids ready for school. My son Aaron was the sleepy bear of the family, and I generally had difficulty dragging him out of bed. He is always the first to get my attention because he starts school an hour before my other son, Alexander.

By the time Aaron got downstairs on this particular morning, he barely had ten minutes for breakfast. Mornings have always been tough for him; it’s as if he’s dragging a boulder behind him. To top it off, Aaron started in on Alexander, teasing him and goading him.

I had recently been studyingA Course in Miracles,and I was learning a lot about myself and others. I watched how my children constantly provoked each another, always trying to best the other. I started to talk to Aaron, asking him why he was teasing Alexander. It was as if he was taking his frustrations out on him! Aaron started to tell me about school and how he felt that the other kids didn’t like him. I’ve found that when one of my sons is feeling upset inside, he has a tendency to take it out on his brother, so I tried to help Aaron see what might be causing the problem.

Just then, my husband stormed into the kitchen, and he snapped at me to hurry up and get Aaron to school. I immediately felt like I was being attacked, and I allowed myself to feel hurt. I went to my room and cried. Then it dawned on me that I waschoosingto feel attacked and to get my feelings hurt. If I chose to perceive my husband’s actions differently, I could have a different outcome. I realized that I could change my perceptions anytime I wanted. It took me a couple of hours to forgive my husband and let go, but I did because I didn’t want to feel this way the rest of the day.

I started to pray and meditate. I asked God to bring peace to me and my family; and to help me forgive my husband, my kids, and most of all, myself. I had to let go and allow them to learn their lessons on their own, trusting that God and the angels were with them, too! I no longer needed to feel that I had to be in control of everything.

As I sat and prayed in my room, I suddenly heard a tap on the window. I thought it was a bird or something. To my amazement, though, I saw that the sky was filled with angels! They were everywhere. I started to cry with joy. I truly wanted to see angels, and I really didn’t know when or where it was going to happen. I realized that I had to be completely free and clear from all “attack” thoughts in order to experience their presence. I realized that they are all around us in everything we see, and that we are all one!

That afternoon, Alexander and I stopped at the drive-through to get an after-school snack. I was singing a song on the radio when my son said, “Mom, there’s a face looking at me!” He pointed his finger to the sky. “Is that an angel?” he asked. As I sat in amazement, Alexander exclaimed, “And there’s another, and another, and another!”

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“Yes!” I agreed, as tears rolled down my face. It was a miracle. He was seeing exactly what I’d seen earlier that day.

Alexander was so excited and said, “I can’t wait to tell Aaron. But what if he doesn’t believe me?”

I told him not to worry, and I said a little prayer, “Please, Aaron, don’t tease him this time!” As soon as we got home, Alexander raced up the stairs to tell his brother. I heard him say, “Aaron, guess what? I saw an angel looking at me, and then I saw three more!”

Then Aaron gently patted him on the back, and he simply said, “That’s cool, man!” I smiled, tears running down my face, as they gave each other a big hug.

That was a special day—one I will always remember. It was the day I saw the angels! From then on, I was constantly aware of their presence; Divine love; and protection for me, my family, and all of us.


I hadn’t liked my name, Nancy Jane, my entire life—as far back as I remember. I tried Nan, NJ, Nancy, Nanny. Nothing felt like “me.”

One day I decided to meditate on the topic as I stood in front of my bedroom mirror. After some time meditating with my eyes closed, I decided to do an open-eyed meditation, and I saw a beautiful woman with long dark hair standing before me in the mirror. I asked this woman, “What is your name? What is your name?”

I heard her say, “Your name will have something to do with light.” (At the time I had light hair.) I stayed seated for a short while after hearing that; then I proceeded to get dressed. One minute later, my body started moving over to my bookshelf, and I heard the woman say to me, “Your name will be in one of these books.”

I felt my arm lift up as I was walking over to the bookshelf. It was now fully extended, and I picked up the book right in front of my hand. It wasAutobiography of a Yogi,by Paramahansa Yogananda. I flipped through the book, and the name Uma seemed to stand out several times. I thought,What a strange name.

A few hours later, I went to yoga class and asked the teacher, “What doesUmamean in Sanskrit?”

He said that Uma was the “goddess of the rising sun.” I was taken aback for a moment as I remembered that the woman in the mirror had told me that my new name would be related to light. At that moment, I fell in love with my new name: Uma.


I was very close to my grandmother as I grew up. My mother was a single mom, so there were many times when I actually lived with my grandma. You could definitely call her a stabilizing factor in my life, and she was always there for me.

When I was 19, I moved back in with her and my grandfather. One night when I was 21, I had a horrible dream about a snake in my bed. It was so bad that I woke my grandmother up and made her come sit on my bed while I fell back asleep. The next morning, I found her dead on the couch. The event was extremely traumatic, and I was overwhelmed with grief.

While on my knees visiting my grandma’s grave site, I looked up to the sky and cursed God. I told Him that I wanted my grandma back. The sky was slightly cloudy, and my eyes stung painfully from all of the crying I had done.

At that moment, this “thing” appeared in front of the clouds. It was like a starburst coming out from the center, yet it was gray, almost the same color as the clouds themselves. I was certain that my eyes were playing tricks on me. As I got to my feet, an image appeared out of the starburst, and it stole the breath from my chest.

The being had long hair parted in the middle and a distinct heavy robe with a cord around the waist. Its hands were outstretched from its sides, with the palms facing upward. I couldn’t see a face, yet majestic wings pointed straight toward the heavens, and they appeared solid and strong. I felt faint, and I fell to my knees and whispered, “You are real … you are here.”

It was the most powerful being I have ever seen. Standing in the middle of the starburst, this figure made me feel as if it had a lot of influence over my life. I was afraid, yet amazed at the same time.

Although the features of the being were hard to discern, I knew it was an angel. The wings and the hands made this fact very obvious to me. Now, I whispered, “You are an angel.” As the tears spilled from my eyes, I could hardly believe what I was seeing. The angel acknowledged my presence and nodded to me.

With miraculous speed, its wings snapped back to its sides. They were fast and strong and made a loudwhoosh!as they did this. The noise frightened me, but I didn’t move an inch. If this angel had been on the ground, it would have been at least seven feel tall, and the wings would have been even more enormous than that.

The scene was so overwhelmingly intense that I finally had to tear my eyes away. When I looked back at the clouds, there was only the starburst shape, but no angel. I tried to squint harder, but my eyes were so sore from all of my crying. I looked over at the plot where my grandma was buried, and it seemed as if the grass there formed a shape. It was darker in some places than in others. When I looked really hard, I could see the shape of the angel in the grass.

I dropped the silk rose that I had brought for my grandmother onto the image of the angel, knowing that my grandma was in the mystical place that the angel had come from. Completely stunned by what had happened, I walked back to the car and scrawled a picture of the angel on a piece of paper. I left the cemetery with a strange feeling of calm and peace that I had not experienced since before Grandma’s death. I often doodle pictures of that angel when I am feeling stressed or need comfort, and it always cheers me up.


At age 27, I was going through a very difficult time in my life. I was depressed, a six-year relationship that I’d put all my hopes and dreams into had ended, and I had no direction. I remember saying to my mother that I felt dead inside, and I doubted whether that feeling would ever go away. I was also in the middle of graduate school and had recently been told that I would never be able to have children.

My mother asked me to join her and my sister and brother-in-law on a two-week vacation in Cabo San Lucas, Baja California—her treat. At first I declined, but she insisted, and so off I went. The first week was fairly uneventful, but it was a welcome relief to be away from my normal surroundings.

However, during the second week in Mexico, I had what I can only describe as a profound spiritual experience. One night while I was on the beach during high tide and a full moon, the skies simply opened up above me, and I was engulfed in a glorious golden light that radiated a warmth and love that I have never experienced in this lifetime. I saw and heard the angels, and there was sweet music playing. The angels were beings of great radiance, with long white hair, and there seemed to be hundreds around, but only two or so were really visible to me. The feelings they emanated were of love and peace, and were intense and fulfilling to the very depths of my soul.

My most profound recollection was of children’s voices saying, “Mommy, Mommy,” and calling to me. It must have only lasted a second or two, but it felt like an eternity, and I wanted it to continue forever. I felt as if I were finally home.

When I returned from my holiday, a trip to my doctor revealed that the condition preventing me from having children was gone. All my fears had disappeared, too; and suddenly material possessions had little or no meaning to me, and I had a difficult time being within my physical body.

I yearned for that feeling of home. Eight months later, I met my husband, and today we have two wonderful girls, ages six and two. I will never forget that they are my miracles, and that ten years ago, in Cabo San Lucas, I was reborn and forever changed by my experience. Two months ago I received a community newsletter that was advertising property for sale in Baja California. My husband and I bought a parcel of land—my dream come true.


Most of my adult life, I’ve prayed that my angel would appear to me. When I was 45, I realized that I couldn’t spend another day working at a job that left me feeling empty. I fantasized about leaving, and wondered how I could do so. I was married, we had a mortgage, and all of the reasons why I should stay played on and on in my mind.

At this same time, I found myself waking in the night to the sound of chimes ringing in my ears, and I would hear an angelic voice whispering, “Dianne, you did not come to Earth to work at and retire from the Boeing Company.” I would lie there frozen, knowing in my heart of hearts that there was something much more important for me to accomplish. I knew that I had come here with a Divine plan, but I was scared because I didn’t remember what that plan was.

The voices became louder, and I found myself reading books about angels. I decided to start journaling my thoughts and all of the messages I was receiving. It wasn’t long before I knew that a power much greater than I was guiding me, and that I no longer had a choice. In order for my spirit to live, in order for my light to shine, I had no choice—I had to leave Boeing. The environment was suffocating my spirit.

On March 31, 1995, I walked away from my job, which no longer served me, without a clue as to what I was going to do. I prayed for guidance, and also prayed that I would learn to trust.

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I began getting up each morning, journaling my thoughts, my fears, my joys, and whatever was on my mind. I could now sit quietly for as long as I wanted, and write. It was wonderful. It wasn’t long before I found that information was coming to me via the paper I wrote on. I would go back and reread all that was written and be amazed. At first it startled me, just as the whispers in my ears had. And with time, I discovered that it was a joy, and that a relationship was forming with my angels. When the angels were done passing information on to me, they always ended with “Love and Light, Your Angels.” I was never frightened by this experience, but I never told a soul.

A few years passed, and we moved to Camano Island, near Seattle. For the first time in my life, I was surrounded by trees, woods, and gardens. I had been in the city, surrounded by cement and tall buildings, for 48 years. I had always prayed that I would live in the country one day. I spent the first summer working in the yard with my hands in the dirt, and I loved it. I realized, as winter arrived, that I had spent five months in nature; and for the first time in my life, I had made a connection with Mother Earth. My husband and I even built an area where I could meditate and be close to all of the creatures, trees, and the wonderful earth.

On July 1, 1998, as I sat in my peaceful garden reading, I noticed something in my line of sight. There, standing 50 feet away, was a woman dressed in white, with long golden hair that sparkled. She even seemed to glow, and the field around her body vibrated. As I sat looking at her, she said, “Hello, my name is Angora. I am the Angel of Peace. I have much information to share with you.”

With that, I jumped up, ran into the house, grabbed paper and pen, came back to the garden, and wrote down everything she told me. Hours passed by the time she said she would have to leave me, but not to worry, for she would be sure to wake me at 4:44. I was to have paper and pen ready and write down all that she said. I kept our date, and we have been in contact ever since.

Now, there are times when weeks pass before I remember to write. But Angora, bless her heart, is always there for me. I find that I spend a good deal of time in conversation with her. I can ask for assistance, and she guides me each step of the way. Angora has taught me a lot about the universe, and she has given me the gift of understanding. She has given me the strength to do and try things that I might not have tried in the past.

I have only seen her in form that one time. I am aware of her presence, I hear her in my head … and most important, I listen. I encourageyouto open your heart and listen for that voice. The angels wait for your invitation. They love you. I urge you to trust and to open your arms, and you will receive their love and guidance.

Chapter 3


REST-AREAANGELSby Kathleen Smith

I was traveling on a rural highway very late at night. I’d needed to go to the bathroom for a long time but hadn’t passed any businesses. When I came to a rest area, I really had no choice but to stop, and said a hurried prayer for protection. I entered the women’s bathroom, and inside there was a large man in yellow rain gear: hood, pants, gloves, and boots. He said, “Oh, am I in the wrong bathroom?” and started walking toward me.

Then I smelled the strong scent of flowers and felt myself literally lifted up by what had to be an angel and “glided” out the door and to the curb. I was a bit astonished, but not afraid or upset.

At that moment a car drove up, and three couples got out. I was so relieved. I remember thinking that they must be incarnated angels … they were superthin, dark complected, and very well dressed; and they seemed to sparkle. They spoke a foreign language among themselves, and their voices were kind of high-pitched and melodious. I’d never heard anything like the language they were speaking. And their car was futuristic looking, not like any vehicle I’d ever seen. I think the angelswantedme to realize that this was a Divine intervention.

I saw the man in the rain gear on the far sidewalk—he must have left the women’s restroom through the door on the opposite side. I felt completely calm and safe and went in the bathroom with the women. When we came out, the man in the rain gear was talking to one of the men, who nodded to me as I passed them on the way to my car.

I know that the man in the rain gear had intended to hurt me, but I have only positive feelings associated with this incident. I’d been through some difficult times during the holidays, and this experience gave me so much peace and hope about my future. I now know without a doubt that angels truly exist and that they do protect us. They can and do perform miracles, and they’re able to save our lives. I feel so blessed and am now a lightworker, committed to helping others and the planet.


When my son, Alec, was two years old, we were having some work done at our house. The workers asked if I would go down the hill to Duke’s (an old-fashioned hamburger stand) to get them burgers. I took my husband’s new car, which I was not used to driving. It had a gearshift between the seats. Alec came with me. When we got to Duke’s, I left him in his car seat, locked the door, and went about ten feet up to the window to order the hamburgers.

All of a sudden, I saw Alec reach over and move the gearshift out ofPARK. The car started rolling backward since Duke’s was on an incline. I ran to the car, struggling to unlock it, but I couldn’t stop it from rolling. All those stories you hear about mothers picking up boulders and trees resulting from a rush of adrenaline just didn’t happen to me. I absolutely could not stop the car, and now it was out on Pacific Coast Highway.

I was hysterical, but still running alongside the car, trying to unlock it. All of a sudden, the car stopped with a jolt. I looked up, and there was a man holding the vehicle from behind. He told me to unlock the car, get in, and start the engine. I did what he said, pulled back into the parking lot, and immediately stopped to get out and thank him … but he was gone. I never saw where he came from or where he went!


While retrieving a chain that had fallen off of his car, my husband, Clark, had slipped and fallen on an icy patch. After he managed to climb the hill to our house, he collapsed on our floor, writhing in agony. He had hurt his back during the fall.

I immediately called our HMO and asked for an ambulance to take him to the hospital. They said that they would be glad to send one, but if Clark had no significant injury, we would have to pay $500. Since I couldn’t tell whether my husband’s injury was “significant” and I didn’t have that much money to spare, I decided to drive him myself; and my son, Scott, came along.

As we drove down a very busy stretch of freeway, Clark became nauseated, and I had to pull off onto the shoulder of the road. Afterward, I began the daunting task of merging back into traffic, which was moving at a fast clip. It was a very dark night, and as a space in the long line of headlights appeared, I began to maneuver into the lane only to find that I couldn’t get traction in the snow! Scott opened the sliding door on the side of the van and tried to push us, but we sat with tires spinning, making no progress forward.

The empty spot in traffic had given way to another continuous string of headlights. I tried to get to an area where there might be more traction, but the van still didn’t move! I put my head in my hands on the steering wheel and said, “God, I need helpnow!”

A moment later, a car stopped in the right lane of the freeway about ten feet behind my van. Its headlights were on, but not the emergency flasher lights that would warn other drivers that it was stopped. A long line of cars had come to a halt behind it. It was almost like a time warp, if you will, except that traffic continued to move in the other lanes. The road was slick, so for all those cars to just stop without accidents occurring was phenomenal. It would have even been miraculous if the pavement had been dry!

I saw a person get out of the stopped car. He appeared to be of average height, dressed in pants (probably jeans), a short jacket, gloves, and a stocking cap. I couldn’t see any facial features, since the lights from the cars behind him only allowed me to see a shadow. Somehow I knew that he was there to help my son push, so I gave the engine gas and focused on getting the van moving to a point where we’d have enough traction to drive on our own.

As I felt the van’s speed increase, I told my son to jump in, fearing that I would get stuck again if I stopped to pick him up. My concern about my son getting into a moving vehicle distracted my attention from the person helping him. Tasked with shifting gears and avoiding a guardrail, I had my hands full and couldn’t open the window to thank our rescuer.

Later on, when I asked Scott if he had been able to thank the person who had helped him push, he said, “What are you talking about, Mom? There wasn’t anyone helping me push the van. I did it all by myself!” At age 15, Scott was convinced that he was strong enough to have pushed the van on his own.

So many times I’ve wished that I could thank the person who helped get us back on the road, but I actually doubt that he was a person; I think he was an angel sent in response to my prayer for help. After all, it wasn’t possible for someone to have seen our plight, stopped his car, gotten to the back of my van and pushed, and then returned to his own car in the time frame in which this incident occurred. How could all that have happened on a crowded, fast-moving freeway in icy weather, without there being an accident? The only possible answer is Divine intervention, an immediate response to my short, demanding prayer.

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It turned out that Clark had suffered a compound spinal fracture. It was painful for a few weeks, and he had to wear a back brace, but he’s fine today. And for that, we once again thank God.


I saw and spoke to my oldest son’s guardian angel. We were living in Lubbock, Texas, at the time. My son, Brandon, was two years old and was very adept at opening doors, latches, and locks.

It was a Sunday, and we were at church. We had taken Brandon to the nursery for his class. I was sitting on the couch in the foyer because I was in my eighth month of pregnancy, and the Sunday School chairs were uncomfortable. The foyer had large windows on either side of a double door. The entire wall was plate glass, covered with filmy curtains to let in filtered light. My husband was sitting with me on the couch when we noticed an older woman approaching, holding the hand of a small boy. As she opened the door, we realized that the small boy was Brandon.

The woman had white hair and a very pale complexion. Her suit was white with tiny black piping. She carried a white purse and had on matching shoes. She asked if this little boy belonged here at this church. For a moment, I was just too stunned to speak. She went on to say that she had seen him wandering down by the lake at the park behind the church and thought he might be in danger. Brandon would have had to escape through several doors and a latched gate to get off the church grounds.

I said that he was mine, and she handed him over and went out the door. I realized that I had not said “Thank you” and went out after her. She was gone. The sweet elderly woman had disappeared without a trace, just as mysteriously as she’d first appeared. Brandon is now 20 and a firefighter. I hope his sweet angel is still looking out for him.

THEANGELDOCTORby James R. Myshrall

On December 22, 1995, at 11A.M., Hazel (my mother), Beverley (my wife), and I were involved in a car crash. In this accident there were two deaths, but there should have been four. My mother and the gentleman who caused the crash passed on. My wife smashed her kneecap and received a large cut on her forehead. My face was crushed from the eyes down. I was choking, drowning in my own blood.

Within seconds, a mysterious doctor and his wife appeared. He came through the windshield of our car, pinned me down (as I was thrashing around due to the head injury), and cleared the blood away, making it possible for me to breathe.

This unknown doctor prepped me for the ambulance to take me the great distance to a well-equipped hospital. Through various channels, I’ve tried to track him down, and I even attempted to do so through the TV seriesUnsolved Mysteries,but I’ve had no luck. I am unable to locate this doctor. There is no mention of his name in the police report. The only conclusion I can come up with is that he was an angel. I am alive and well due to this angel doctor.

I was told that my mother was killed instantaneously. I believe that she had requested that I not be taken away from Earth at this time, as it would be too much of a burden for my family.


I was driving to get groceries. I took my usual route to the main street when my truck suddenly stopped, and I drifted to the side of the road.

I retrieved my purse to walk to the main road, which had several businesses, where I hoped I could phone a roadside service. As I turned around and reached for the door, I saw a man dressed in security-guard clothes with a walkie-talkie coming around the corner, right toward me. He came up to my car window, asking if he could help. I said I was about to go someplace to call an emergency service. He said he could do that, and I heard him speaking on the walkie-talkie while I quickly looked in my purse for the roadside-assistance membership card. When I turned to thank the man for his timely help, he was gone! I looked up and down the street for him, but he wasn’t there! The tow truck came almost immediately.

I started thinking about the circumstances of the incident, realizing that there were no business establishments in the area that would warrant a security guard, and also the fact that the man had come from around the corner and headed right to me. I knew that I’d had a wonderful blessing from a very real angel.

THECAMPANGELby Daniel R. Person

I was at Covenant Pines, a Christian family camp in McGregor, Minnesota, with my parents, brother, and sister. Every morning we had a mandatory church service. I was about seven years old and more interested in playing than going to church, so I told my mother I was sick and couldn’t go. When everyone left, I went down to the lake to go swimming.

I was a poor swimmer and not allowed in the deep water. I thought that this was my chance, and I crossed under the H-shaped dock. After a minute, I swallowed some water and began to thrash. I struggled for a little while and went underwater. Looking up, I saw the light through the surface. I quit struggling and put my hand up out of the water as I went still and began to sink.

Just as my hand was about to go under, I shot up onto the dock. I was on my knees, throwing up at a man’s feet. I looked up, and he asked if I was okay. I said yes, and he turned and walked away. I crawled off the dock and stayed on the beach for a little while. Then I walked back to my cabin when I felt better.

I slept the rest of that day and looked for the man at dinner that night. There were only about 70 people there, and I spent the rest of the weekend looking for him. He wasn’t anywhere to be found. We were in the middle of nowhere, so he wouldn’t have been there if not for the camp (or to save my life!).


I was 18 and had just finished school (I live in Australia). Normally, this would be immensely exciting. However, I was awaiting my exam results, which scared the wits out of me. Even worse, I caught my boyfriend (and first love) kissing another girl at our prom, just days before we were due to go away on vacation together for a week.

That week’s holiday was hell. We’d fight and fight and fight and then make up, only to fight again a few seconds later. It was awful. It came to a breaking point when he said some really harsh things to me, and I stormed out and headed straight for the beach. I’ve had a fairly rough childhood, and all of this was getting to me. Although I’m ashamed to say it now, the thought of killing myself was at the forefront of my mind.

I went to the deserted beach, and I began to walk toward a huge cliff.My way out,I thought. I was hysterical, crying, sobbing, and wailing. I couldn’t see anyone around, but then again, I wasn’t in any state to notice anyone else.

At that moment, I felt someone tap me on my shoulder. It was a man of about 25, well groomed, with translucent skin and beautiful blue eyes. He asked me if I was okay, but he transmitted these words somehow silently, because looking back, I cannot remember him ever uttering a word. I began to tell him everything—everything. We walked farther, me pouring my heart out to him all the while. We sat down and I continued, telling him everything that had happened to me since the age of 12, when my parents had divorced. As I kept talking, he gently guided me back toward the beach house I was staying in with my boyfriend. We reached the trail that would take me there from the beach.

He stopped and turned me toward him. I realized that I’d been talking nonstop for more than two hours. I began to apologize, and I thanked him for listening, all in the same breath. I told him that I should go because my boyfriend would be getting worried, and then I hugged him. He still didn’t say anything, and I remember thinking that this was a little bizarre.

I turned to leave, ran up the beach a bit, and then turned around to wave good-bye. But when I looked back, the beach was empty. I walked back down to where I had just stood with him and looked around. Nothing. I closed my eyes, thinking I was going mad, and shook my head. When I opened my eyes, I saw that there was only one set of footprints trailing up the beach along the path this man and I had walked. I felt really weird at this point and ran back to the house. I never spoke a word of what happened that day on the beach to anyone.

I have become more of a spiritual person because of this occurrence, and I continue to search for more meaning in my life. I speak to my angel all the time, and although he hasn’t “appeared” again, I have never been as desperate as I was on that day at the beach. I get little signs every now and again, but usually only when I ask for them.

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The year was 1980. It was an unusually hot day in the middle of the summer, a day I will never forget! I was very depressed. Nothing seemed to be going right in my life, including a relationship I was desperately hanging on to. My life had no plan, no direction. I was looking for a way out, so I asked God for help. I needed to know that I was here for a reason. I wanted to be able to help myself and others. At the time, that wish didn’t look very promising. I cried as I spoke to God, as if He were standing beside me.

Then there was a knock at my door.Oh, who is that?I thought.Should I answer?The knocks continued. I finally opened the door, with tearstains on my face. Before me stood a man around 30, handsome, with a bright smile and a clipboard under his arm. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and dark trousers. His sleeves were rolled up a few folds. He said he was sorry to bother me but wondered if he could have a glass of water. I couldn’t refuse him, as it was hot as blazes out there. I asked him if he would like some ice, also, and he said, “Yes, that would be fine.”

As I turned on the faucet, the heaviness I had felt seemed to be lightening. He finished his glass of water, and I asked him if he would like some more. He said yes, with much appreciation in his voice. So I poured him a second drink, again with ice. This time I started to feel like something was filling up inside of me. I noticed that my mood, my depression, was lifting. I was feeling better! The man finished his second drink, and I asked him if he would like another. He was still thirsty!

So, as before, I started to pour a third glass of water. I experienced an overflowing of joy, and spontaneously thought of a beautiful biblical scripture: “Those who thirst after righteousness … shall be filled.”

Who is this man, and why is he having this profoundly positive effect on me?I suddenly wondered. He finished his water and seemed satisfied.

He thanked me warmly and left. As I shut the door, I felt a peaceful inner certainty that my answers would soon come, that I had a purpose and I wasn’t finished here. I dashed to the kitchen window to see which direction the man had gone, but he was nowhere to be seen. He could not have disappeared from my view that fast! Then within the deepest part of me, I knew that he was an angel in disguise.

My life changed that day. A whole new world opened up to me—one of love, forgiveness, listening to others, seeing myself through others’ eyes, and having the ability to help myself through helping others. Now that I think about it, whenever something happens and I find myself completely overwhelmed, I feel an unmistakable presence within or around me that gives me the strength and courage to face the challenge and move on, knowing that I will be fully protected.


On September 14, 1995, while driving to work, I started to experience a tightening in my chest and pain that was going up in my throat. Having already passed right by the hospital, I decided to try to make it to the office and have someone take me to the emergency room. However, after driving a few more blocks, I started to feel very weak and had to pull the car into a deserted strip-mall parking lot. This was all happening at around 6:50A.M., and none of the stores were open.

Just then, a man appeared, and I asked him to call an ambulance, as I was continuing to have chest pains and trouble breathing. I remember him going into one of the stores to make the call. The ambulance came and took me to the hospital, where they performed a cardiac cauterization. After they found a blocked artery, I underwent angioplasty.

After spending time at home recuperating, I returned to the strip mall, trying to locate and thank the gentleman who had called the ambulance. Since I had seen him go into one of the stores before their opening hours, I figured he must work at one of them. All of the store managers told me that no one would be there at that time of the morning and that no one of that description worked for them. I could not find my guardian angel, but I’m sure that’s who he was.


It was an ordinary spring day, and my husband asked me to help move our older Pontiac Firebird out of the carport area, as it was blocked by a hedge and wasn’t accessible to the truck that would tow it to the shop. As my husband pushed, I was to steer it out of the spot. Well, as he was pushing and I was steering, I found that he was unable to handle the job as he’d thought. His back was strained, and I was trying to steer the car while seated inside. I felt that I created more weight, so I decided to get out of the car and help push, too. The only problem was that I couldn’t maneuver the vehicle and brake as well. This was an enormously unwieldy car—a 1976 Firebird has a lot of heavy metal—and we felt as if this was unbelievably hard to manage. Just as we would get the car to move, I would jump inside to brake before it hit my husband.

I started to pray in my heart, and I asked my angels to help me. While I was stating these requests inwardly, my husband was trying to push the car, which was going nowhere. Just as I was in the middle of my prayer, I looked up and saw the most interesting manifestation of my entire life. A man was running from what appeared to be the fence by my house. As I watched him come toward us, I noticed that he turned, almost as if he were feeling his way toward the car. When his loving eyes met mine, he nodded as if to say intuitively, “I am here!” He approached the car and started to help push it. My husband was totally shocked to see this man helping, but the two of them managed to push the car into place.

I hit the brakes and shifted intoPARK. I noticed that the man—who had blond hair, blue eyes, and a beautiful golden-bronze tan all over—was shaking my husband’s hand and saying something to him that I couldn’t hear. That’s when I got out of the car and walked over, just in time to see him turn and leave, running in the same direction he’d come from and disappearing from our sight.

Focusing on my husband, I noticed that his eyes were watering, and I asked if he was all right. He couldn’t speak, but finally after a few seconds, he murmured that the love emanating from that man had been so incredible. I asked him what the man had said. My husband turned to look at me. “He said, ‘It pays to pray.’”

We never saw the man again, but we have never forgotten this amazing and wondrous occurrence.

Chapter 4


WILLIAMWHITEby Dawn Elizabeth Allmandinger

In the 1980s, I was married to a man who physically abused me. We both worked at the same restaurant—I was a waitress, and he was a busboy. He would say mean things to me in front of my co-workers, and once I came into work with a black eye covered with heavy makeup.

One day, a man and woman whom I had never seen before entered the restaurant. The man started to ask me things about myself, and then he said that I was special. But at the time I didn’t think that was true because my ex-husband had always told me otherwise, as had my father.

He asked me what I thought my mission in life was. Without thinking, I said, “Well, I’m God’s helper.” The man told me that not many people know that about themselves. He asked me how I thought I helped others. I told him that I hugged people, and I could feel what was going on inside of them.

He told me that I was right, and that I should give the woman who was with him (his sister) a hug and tell them what I felt. I hugged her, and I told her I felt she wasn’t happy and that she was going through some kind of move that she was uneasy about. The woman confirmed that shewasgoing through a move, wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do, and wasn’t really happy about it. I couldn’t believe that I had gotten it right!

The man told me that he felt I was a healer, which I had been told twice before, but I hadn’t thought I was special enough. Now, these two people didn’t know me from Adam, and the man seemed to know things about me and my life that no one did. He told me that I wouldn’t be with my husband much longer, which at that time I didn’t believe. I really thought of marriage as a “till death do us part” commitment.

The man then asked me if I wanted his phone number, and I said yes. What’s strange about this is that the restaurant was really busy with the lunch rush, yet the only people seated in my section were the man and his sister. That gave me time to talk with them.

So, I opened my address book to a blank page, and he wrote: “William White, 758-6055.” Then he said, “Look at my name. See, it says ‘Will I Am’!” William asked me to call him so that I could join a group of helpers and healers.

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A few days later, I dialed the number, and all I heard was a recording that said the number had been changed and that there was no new number.

I did end up divorcing my husband, as William predicted. I am now ready to forgive my dad for the abuse, as well as my ex-husband.

I have looked for William White ever since then, with no luck. I truly believe that he was an angel in human form trying to guide me back on the path to peace.


I was driving on Interstate 10, heading west toward Pacific Coast Highway, on a Saturday afternoon. I was listening to music, and my small son, Eli, was asleep in the backseat. I was lost in thought when the car in front of me slammed on its brakes! I was going at least 50 miles per hour, and I hit the brakes hard in an attempt not to careen into the car. But it was obvious that there wasn’t enough time to stop. It all seemed surreal as I found myself heading straight for the car in front of me at a high speed. It was terrifying! I was thinking,Oh God, is this where I die? What about Eli? Oh God, please, no!

I crashed into the car with a great impact. Afterward, I was shaking uncontrollably and was afraid to move, lest I be confronted with the horror of seeing blood, bodies, and glass everywhere. But when I summoned the courage to look around, instead of witnessing a tragedy, I saw a miraculous scene. My son, Eli, was still asleep! I was completely uninjured, which, considering how hard I’d hit the other car, seemed utterly impossible.

As I was considering this unlikely situation, a dark-haired woman with a very thick unrecognizable accent opened my door, and I stepped out of the car. She threw her arms around me and said these exact words: “We are all going too fast. You are fine. Let us remember to slow down.” Then she said, “May God bless you!” and she got back in her own vehicle and drove off. I stood there in a state of shock.

My car was completely unscathed, yet I had just had a huge collision. Not only that, somehow my vehicle was parked safely on the right shoulder, completely out of harm’s way, even though I hadn’t driven it there! I’d never moved it after the crash. I should have been in the middle of the freeway, with cars swerving to avoid me.

Miracle? Angel? Call it what you want. I just know that the mysterious lady and that experience made no sense to me.We are all going too fast.Quite a metaphor for this crazy, intense pace we’ve set for ourselves. I got back in my car and slowly drove home. God was there that day for Eli and me—I’m certain of it.


I decided to follow my fiancé (who soon became my husband) to the New York area in 1995. We settled in an apartment that we could afford in New Jersey. This proved disastrous. There were signs early on that this was not necessarily a good decision: I was involved in a head-on collision before our move; and other disasters included getting my car stolen the day I started my new job, and having men expose themselves to me on the various subway trains I would use to commute to Manhattan each day. All in all, my husband and I had our cars stolen four times within a one-year period.

Finally, my husband lost his job and couldn’t find another one with comparable pay. He decided to move back to the Washington, D.C., area, which had a thriving job market. I remained in New York City until a job transfer came through for me. During this time, I lived with a friend in Manhattan.

One day a man approached me after I had parked on the street, and loudly exclaimed that I was in his parking space. My friend who was with me told the man that it was a public spot. The man became quite angry. Against my better judgment, I left my car there. My inner voice told me to drive away, but my friend convinced me that I needed to stand up for what was right and not let the guy bully me.

Later in the day, I returned alone to find that my car had a flat tire. Someone had taken a knife and slashed it repeatedly. I cracked. I knew that this was the result of the parking incident, since the man had threatened violence when I’d left the car earlier that day. I drove my car, crying all the way, and called a roadside service to assist me in replacing the tire. I was totally hysterical at this point. The city had finally defeated me, and I felt hopeless.

After calling for assistance, I carefully scanned the area in all directions for the service truck that was on its way. I had parked in a somewhat secluded location that I considered safe because it had open areas where I could see people coming. I believed that the guy who had slashed my tire might have followed me.

Suddenly, I heard a woman’s voice behind me asking about my car. I did not see this person approach and was quite startled because I had been vigilantly looking all around. Crying, I told her the story. She was very comforting the entire time, while listening intently. She said that God would not have put us all here if there wasn’t room enough for everyone, and that He would always provide for me, be it a parking spot or anything else. She also told me that I would soon receive a great blessing that would heal the entire situation with my tire.

At that moment, I saw the service truck approach. A second later, I turned to thank the woman for being so kind, but she had completely disappeared! There wasn’t anywhere she could have hidden and no building nearby she could have gone into. A great wave of happiness and comfort came over me at that time. I truly believe that the woman was an angel. There is no other explanation.

The blessing she told me about also came true. The very next day, I received an award for $50 from an employee-recognition program. This was the exact cost of replacing the tire that had been destroyed. In addition to that, it boosted my self-esteem! A true miracle had occurred during a time when I thought nothing good could happen.


My mother, Marjorie, told me a story about an incident that occurred when I was an infant.

Tragedy weighed heavily upon her. At age 22, she had lost her brother, her mother, and my father (who died at 31); and I was gravely ill. The doctors suggested a new therapy that had never been tried on infants. They gave me a 50-50 chance of success if she consented to the treatment. If she declined, I would surely die.

So my mother signed the consent form, walked out of the hospital, and went straight to the harbor, where she planned to drown herself. Everyone she had ever loved had been taken away from her. She believed I would die and that she had nothing to live for.

As she stood staring into the murky water, a black man who appeared to be a dock worker came up next to her. At first she was afraid because he was such a big man, and it was a rough neighborhood that women just didn’t frequent. But then she thought,It doesn’t matter.

He said, “Killing yourself is not the answer. Everything is going to be okay.” My mother looked away from him for a few seconds and stared down into the water again. When she looked up, he was gone. She scanned the area, but the man had simply disappeared into thin air.

Everythingdidturn out okay, as I obviously lived. My mother had a special affinity with the angels from that time to the day they took her home … on May 18, 1999.


I attended Doreen Virtue’s workshop here in Calgary, Canada, in October 1999. In the workshop, we were taught how to ask for our guardian angels’ names. I discovered that my angels were named Teresa and Walter.

Two months later, on December 17, I had the most amazing encounter. I was working on a project at a seniors’ drop-in center for a few hours. I was chatting with an elderly lady when a man walked in and sat down. We began talking, and he told me that he’d had several visits from his wife after she passed on, and that he thought she was trying to give him a message. I told him that I believed in angels, and he responded by saying, “I know you do!”

I felt so comfortable talking to this man I’d just met. He was so warm and caring and understanding. Before I knew it, I was telling him how my husband had been out of work since the previous March and how tough it was for us to support our two boys.

He just sat and listened, and at one point he put his hands on mine and told me, “Everything is going to be okay; it’s all going to work out for you and your family. Keep doing what you’re doing, and keep the faith. Things will get better. I know that it’s a struggle right now, but it will work out, and you will get through this.”

I had this feeling of peace that everything reallywasgoing to be okay as he spoke to me. Then the man said, “I’m going to tell you something, and you will know what I mean; you will understand what I say to you.” He then told me that he loved me!

At this point, I felt like the whole world had stopped—just like in a movie—and no one else was in the room. I asked him, “What’s your name?”

To my amazement, he told me that his name was Walter! At that exact moment, I had no doubt in my mind that I was sitting there face-to-face with my angel! I also had this most unreal feeling, like a thousand shooting stars going through the top of my head and right out my toes. I can’t even begin to explain the love and warmth that I felt. I told him about the workshop and that my angels’ names were Teresa and Walter. He smiled, and said to me, “Well, I guess we need to meet Teresa.” I told him that I wanted to come back and visit again.

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He told me not to worry and that we would meet again. Walter then took my hands in his. He again told me that everything was going to be all right and not to worry and said that he loved me. He gave me a big hug, kissed me on my left cheek, and told me to have a merry Christmas with my family and friends. Then he turned around and walked out of the room.

I stood there for a few moments trying to take it all in. I realized that the woman sitting at the table had gotten up at some point and had walked to the other end of the room. She returned to the table and rejoined me. I said to her, “That man was so amazing and kind. I want to come back and visit him again.”

She looked at me and said, “Yes, he seemed very nice. It’s funny. I’ve volunteered here every day for the past three years, and that’s the first time I’ve seen him!”

DANCINGANGELBOYby Jill Wellington Schaeff

The first time I heard the song “Hands,” by pop singer Jewel, the words leaped from the radio, mesmerizing me with their wisdom. One line in particular, referencing kindness, squeezed my heart. Now, every time I hear the song, my physical surroundings blur, and the spiritual message takes over my very soul.

That’s what happened in November of 1999, only the words didn’t flow from the radio. My husband and I are Cub Scout den leaders, overseeing a rowdy group of six second-graders, including our son, Mark. We were asked to supply a Christmas-ornament project for at least 50 boys at the monthly pack meeting. The boys from eight different dens would move from table to table making the ornaments, then deliver them to various nursing homes in December. It was also our den’s turn to create a crafty neckerchief-slide project for the month of November for our pack’s 88 Cub Scouts.

The inspiration came early one morning in a dream. I clearly saw the project laid out before me—a little ear of Indian corn, popcorn kernels glued to a corn-shaped piece of cardboard with straw poking out the top. It was adorable! I jumped out of bed and headed straight to the kitchen to duplicate the project from my dream.

I spent the entire day experimenting with food coloring to get the exact shades for Indian corn. It took hours to mix the colors, blend the kernels, and measure them into tiny plastic bathroom cups, one for each boy in our Cub Scout pack. My hands cramped as I painstakingly cut out 88 cardboard cornstalks and glued the straw on top. I then placed each one into a cup of popcorn kernels so that every boy would have a ready-to-make kit. Then he could glue on the kernels and complete a slide for his uniform’s neckerchief.

I was proud as my family helped me carry the projects into the school gym and lay them out. Our long table was immediately surrounded by whooping boys from all the different Cub Scout dens, drawn to our neckerchief-slide project.

“Look at these neat little corns,” I heard them saying.

Tiny hands reached for the boxes in front of me, plastic cups tipping over and spilling. “I have just enough for each boy in our own pack,” I said, my mind flooding with frustration. What seemed so orderly in my house was now chaotic. Finally, the pack leader saved me by announcing that each boy must rotate from table to table. Our table remained the most crowded, with boys gathering around to make the little Indian corns.

As my husband and daughter guided the boys through the ornament project, I struggled to make sure we had enough supplies. “Honey, you only needonecup of popcorn,” I said to one of the boys. “Try not to spill your cup; that’s all I have,” I told another. I was definitely feeling stressed.

During this confusion, a little boy danced over to me. Dressed in a long-sleeved plaid shirt, instead of the bright blue-and-gold Cub Scout uniform, the child appeared either Indian or Hispanic. “I want to make the little corn,” he said, his brown eyes like full moons.

“Honey, you will make a project with your pack.”

“Please, I want to make the little corn,” he pleaded.

I felt overwhelmed with so much chatter, plus parents and other adults vying for my attention. Losing my patience, I asked, “Where is your Cub Scout den?”

He stared me right in the eye and said, “I don’t have a den.” The answer was vacant, confused. Kneeling down in front of him, I firmly told him that I only had enough corn projects for the Cub Scouts, but that if he could bring me his den leader, he could do the project. With that, he danced away, twirling around and around. I was relieved that his leader would deal with him.

That’s when it happened. Inside my head, louder than the lively din echoing off the cement walls, I heard Jewel singing the lyrics about kindness being the only thing that matters. My heart suddenly swelled with love and remorse. As little boys tugged on my sleeve, impatient for me to demonstrate the corn project, I rose from my seat, my eyes brimming with tears. “Excuse me, I need to do something.”

I quickly made my way through the crowd, searching for the dancing boy with the heavenly brown eyes. I wanted to find him and invite him to make a corn slide, just as he’d asked in his simple, sincere request to me. I thought that surely with his plaid shirt, the little boy would stand out among the sea of blue and gold.

But he was nowhere to be seen. I walked from table to table, my eyes searching each face. I started to quake as I scanned the length of each table in search of the dancing boy. He was not among them. Where was he? At that moment, I noticed a table with a group of physically and mentally challenged Cub Scouts.

Like a former Scrooge who’d had a huge awakening of the heart, I announced, “I want all these boys to come to my table. I have a project waiting for you.”

Precious eyes lit up, and parents delighted in helping the boys with various physical limitations get across the crowded room. I seated the eight boys around the table, and watched in awe as they carefully glued the kernels to the cardboard.

My heart sang with joy the rest of the evening, as the boys slowly completed their projects. Just like the fish that multiplied in the Bible, my supplies for the corn project seemed to do the same. After all the boys had made their neckerchief slides, I still had several kits left over.

I continued to scan the room for the dancing boy, but he had disappeared. I know now that he was an angel, sent by God to teach me a tremendous lesson about kindness. The experience ignited a change in me. Whenever I feel frazzled and impatient over life’s little stresses, I sing the inspiring words from Jewel’s song to myself.


The first time I realized that I’d encountered an angel was in 1985 when my grandmother died suddenly from heart failure. She had been on dialysis for about five years, and during one of her treatments, she’d had a major heart attack. She was rushed to another hospital, and my father called me to tell me she was there.

Before I could even leave the house, he called again and told me she was gone. I was very close to my grandmother and was devastated. I was extremely upset and concerned that she had died alone.

We were at the funeral home for the visitation, and the oddest thing happened. A Dominican nun (the order of the nuns who taught at the Catholic school I had attended as a child) approached me. She touched my hand and said to me, “I was with your grandmother when she died. She told me to tell you that she is okay now and she knows how very much you loved her.” I was so surprised that I was speechless for several minutes. I turned to thank her, and she was gone.

I asked my brothers and my father if they had spoken to the nun, and they looked at me strangely and wanted to know what I was talking about. Nobody in the room that day had seen her, let alone talked to her. I realized then that the angel had come to calm my fears about my grandmother dying alone, and to reassure me that my grandmother knew how much I cared.


In the summer of 1996, my son Michael had a great summer vacation, which he desperately needed after enduring three open-heart surgeries in May of that year. He was doing great, until the fall came. We went to the doctors, and in September they told me that he needed to have another operation. I was devastated and went into a depression, feeling suicidal. The doctors medicated me.

Three days later, my best girlfriend insisted that we go to a local bagel shop with Michael and her young daughter. The shop was all glass, and had only one door leading in and out of it. We found a table in the back, where my son and I were facing away from the other customers. At that moment, an elderly woman came up behind us and put her hand on Michael’s right shoulder. She said, “He sits there with such great strength.”

Then the woman asked my son’s name. When I replied, “Michael,” she said, “Of course! Michael, the archangel.” I noticed that the woman had blondish-gray hair. She was wearing an old brown coat, and a gold ring with a religious symbol. She then told us to have a great day as she prepared to leave our table.

We watched her turn around, but we never saw her go out the door or exit the parking lot! It was like she just vanished into thin air! After that moment, I took no more drugs. I was happy, and had no more fear of my son dying. That December, Michael had his operation. We got through it, and all went well. I see now that the elderly lady was an angel, sent to give me strength and the will to live.


In 1994, at the age of 44, I awoke at incredible chest pains. The pains were so severe that my husband called an ambulance. Several paramedics arrived, and they confirmed that I was having a heart attack. They shared this news with my husband, but they all decided not to tell me. En route to the hospital, I told the paramedics that I felt like I was going away, and that they sounded strange and distant. At that moment, I let go and died.

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I heard the paramedics frantically saying that I had flatlined. I watched one of them, a tall blonde woman, scream, “You’re not doing this to me!” as she slammed me in the chest. I saw her hit me and was somewhat surprised that I didn’t feel it! I was revived and was code red at the local hospital.

I was going in and out of consciousness in the emergency room, with three doctors and several nurses in attendance. I was administered beta-blockers, and the doctors told my husband to call my family members so that they could come and say their final farewells to me. As the drugs coursed through my system, I felt cold, the deepest and most bone-chilling cold I have ever experienced.

Still uninformed about the severity and details of my condition, I started talking to a nurse. She had the sweetest smile and held my hand. She was of medium build and looked matronly. She didn’t wear a regular nurse’s uniform, which, in my confused state, I didn’t question. She told me that I’d indeed had a heart attack, but that it was over and I would never have another one. This news greatly eased my mind, and I drifted off to sleep.

When I awoke, I was in the intensive care unit, and a doctor asked me to decide which hospital I would like to use for my heart surgery. He also stated that I was to undergo cauterization at 1P.M.that day and that I was in a very bad way. Normally they scheduled such procedures for the following day, but as he explained, I was likely to have a fatal heart attack at any time. A helicopter would soon land on the hospital roof and transport me to a town 30 miles away for immediate surgery.

To say that I was confused by this news would be an understatement, since the nurse had assured me that I would never again have a heart attack. At 1P.M., I went to the coronary lab and was given the cauterization. Although 40 percent of my heart was not working, the doctors were astonished that I had no blockage left and no need for surgery.

One week later, I was released. The doctor said that the damaged heart could possibly recover over time, but I would still probably suffer 15 to 20 percent permanent damage to the muscle.

Several weeks later, I returned to the hospital for a stress test and was eager to talk to the nurse who had been so reassuring. I scanned all the faces and met some of the nurses who had attended me that night. They firmly assured me that no such person had been with me that night in the room! I also learned that hospital policy would never have allowed any staff member to say such things to me, since my prognosis at that time was dire!

Fifteen months later, my heart doctor dismissed me and said that he was amazed that my heart muscle showed no damage. He said, “Whatever you’ve done has worked!” Since that time, I had unrelated, minor surgery and had to inform the hospital that I’d had a heart attack, which surprised them since my EKG showed no problem with my heart at all. They even asked me if I was sure!

What Iamsure about is that the kindly nurse was my very own guardian angel!

Chapter 5



Fourteen years ago, I lost my younger brother (age 29) to suicide. When I got home on the day of his funeral, my answering-machine tape had all been used up. Yet everyone who knew me would have known that I was at my brother’s funeral. I played the tape, and all I heard was an electrical sound throughout the whole recording. I knew that it was my brother communicating with me. He used to call me up and tease me on my answering machine all the time.

A month later, my father had a massive heart attack. My brother appeared to me (IknowI wasn’t sleeping!) and told me he would be coming to get my dad. I begged him not to take my father because this was only a month after his own death. I told him that we needed Dad, and my mother couldn’t possibly handle another loss so soon. So I prayed to God and sent angels to my father to protect him. I called the hospital, and they told me that my dad was having a very bad night.

I know it was the angels that helped Dad stay with us for another eight years even though his heart was very weak. When my father died in 1994, the doctors said they didn’t know how he had lived so long because his heart was so damaged. But I knew why!

THANKYOU, DAD!by Peggy Keating

My father died in 1973. Approximately two years later, he saved my life.

I was driving late at night, very tired. Foolishly, I was determined to keep going. I was drifting off to sleep, and suddenly I saw my father standing at the side of the road! He appeared in full form, wearing the same kind of clothing he had worn when he was alive—there was no mistaking him. When I looked in the rearview mirror, he was gone. Needless to say, I was wide-awake for the rest of the trip. Thank you, Dad!

WATCHINGOVERUSby Catherine Kilian

My father, William, passed away from a massive heart attack when I was 13. We had a tight father-daughter relationship and did almost everything together. His passing was very tough on me because not only did I lose my dad, I lost my best friend.

Eight years later, I was seven months pregnant with my first child—what would have been my father’s first grandchild. My husband and I had just finished setting up the nursery, and completely exhausted, we turned in early. In the early-morning hours, I needed to use the bathroom, and when I opened the door, my father was standing right at the threshold of the nursery, looking in. He turned, saw me, and smiled. Scared, I slammed the door shut. After realizing what I had seen, I opened the door again, and he was still there, smiling. He walked into the nursery and disappeared.

I know he is watching over my daughter every minute, and I know in my heart that he loves her.


I was in my early 30s and trying to get into law school. Becoming a lawyer was a personal dream of mine, and my father and I always talked about it. When I first tried to gain admission to law school after receiving my bachelor’s degree, I didn’t do too well on the entrance exam, so I gave up. My dad wanted me to keep trying, but I didn’t.

Soon after, though, my father passed away. He was only 48, and he just died too young. For Dad’s sake, I decided to try applying to law school again. So I again took the Law School Admission Test (LSAT), and even though I studied hard, I still didn’t do that well. But I was determined, so I applied to law school anyway, hoping that my good university grades would offset my poor showing on the exam.

A few weeks after I applied to law school, a friend called to tell me that she’d gotten accepted to my hoped-for school! I was very happy for her, but very sad for myself. Since I hadn’t heard anything and shehad,I naturally concluded that I hadn’t been accepted. I cried and just wanted to give up. Everything I had worked so hard for was again going out the window. I was so upset that I just shut myself away from everyone. I couldn’t believe that this had happened to me again. I was devastated.

That night—I will never forget this—I was asleep, and my room lit up with a very bright light. It was so bright that it woke me up. That’s when I saw my dad in the center of the light. He told me that everything was going to be okay, and that I was going to be accepted by the law school. He said that I would definitely finish the program, and that my dreams of becoming a lawyer would come true.

I was so happy to see him! I wanted him to stay and talk to me, but he said he only came to tell me that he was okay and was watching over me and that things were going to turn out all right. I begged him not to go, to just stay and talk. He told me he had to go, and that his work with me was done, but that he would be with me always.

Two days later, I received the news that I had been accepted into law school! Just like Dad had promised, I graduated. Since then, I’ve passed the bar exams in two states and can practice law in both. My story may sound strange, but I know for a fact that my dad was there, and I won’t ever forget it.

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While I was in my freshman year attending Kent State University in 1987, my Grandpa Jim suffered cardiac arrest while alone in his room at a hospital in Cleveland. When the staff found him several minutes later, they resuscitated him. Since he had gone for several minutes without air, they could only bring him back to a comatose state in which he was unable to respond to any verbal or physical stimuli. The only thing that kept him alive was a respirator. After five days, there were still no signs of life in my grandfather, not even an attempt to breathe on his own. The doctors said that he was “clinically” dead.

At this point, we had a family meeting to discuss the idea of signing a paper that would allow Grandpa Jim to be taken off of artificial life-support measures (called a DNR, or Do Not Resuscitate, order). Everyone agreed, except for my uncle, who wanted to wait a few more days in the hopes that Grandpa Jim would awaken and be as he always was. After this meeting, I drove back to school. It was pretty late at night, and there wasn’t a lot of traffic on the roads. During the drive, I was feeling angry with my uncle and grieving the loss of my grandpa, the person who’d had the greatest positive impact on my life.

I came to a stop sign and was the only car at this intersection. I looked to the right of me, and on the front lawn of the house there I noticed the spirit of a priest standing next to a birdbath. He had a small frame, was about 5’5”, and was wearing an old traditional robe with a hat like a bishop’s. He appeared to be performing a rite. He was making the sign of the cross with his hands. The more I looked at him, the brighter he got.

Then, on the other side of the birdbath, Grandpa Jim appeared. He stood tall and dignified, the way I always knew him. He was dressed in a navy blue coat and white pants, just like he’d worn when he was in the Navy. His face was glowing, and he was at peace. I could feel him tell me that he wanted us to let him go—to sign the DNR order. I nodded to him, and he smiled at me. I turned to look at the traffic light and saw that it was green.

When I looked back, my grandfather and the priest were gone. When I got back to my dorm room, I called my mother and told her what had happened. Until this point, I hadn’t understood why I had seen the priest. When I described him to my mother, she told me that Grandpa Jim had a friend who was a priest who had died ten years earlier. He matched my description. That was confirmation to her and the rest of my family that what I saw was real.

At the next family meeting, I told everyone about my vision. I assured them that Grandpa Jim was at peace and that it was time for us to let him go. I also reassured them that he was, and would always be, with us. Finally, my uncle agreed to the DNR order, and the document was signed. The following week, on Thanksgiving Day, Grandpa Jim’s heart arrested, and he passed on.

For many days after his death, I saw green auras around every light. Like the traffic signal that I saw immediately after my vision, the color green means “go,” and maybe that was his way of saying, “Thank you for letting me go.”


In 1991, I was overseas on a six-month deployment as a U.S. Marine. My father was back home, dying of leukemia, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long. At every port, I would go to the phone center and call to see how he was doing.

When I called my father from Bahrain, a Gulf country, I knew from the sound of his voice that he was very weak. I asked him how he was doing, and he said he was in a lot of pain and that he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to hold on. I asked him to hold on until I was home so I could be with him before he died. He told me he would try to wait for me. I had three more months to go before my deployment was over.

Some of my friends and I were on a bus heading for the USO (United Service Organization), when somehow we started talking about my father. I found it very strange, and knew that there was a reason why. I was just hoping that the reason wasn’t the one I was thinking of. The next morning, about 0800, the company sergeant came into the building, and I knew instantly why he was there.

“Sgt. Norman, you need to go to the company office and see the commanding officer.”

I reported to the commanding officer, and as soon as he opened his mouth, I started to cry.

Within hours, I was on a plane out of the Gulf heading back to Georgia for my father’s funeral. Several days later, I saw a vision or I had a dream while I was lying in bed. I saw my father descending from the ceiling. He said, “Son, I came to tell you that I’m sorry I couldn’t wait for you to return. I love you, son. Good-bye.” And then he ascended back through the ceiling and was gone. I lay there wondering whether I was dreaming or if I had actually just had a visit from my father. It seemed so real.


I grew up living with my grandmother most of the time. I loved that woman more than life itself. Then she started having health problems. My grandmother was a very strong woman. You never saw her cry. Well, her pain grew so severe that she cried constantly. I would sit and hold her hand and rub her back to comfort her.

I was doing this one evening in November of 1996, and she looked straight at me and cried, “Please, God, take me. I can’t stand this pain anymore!” As much as I knew I would hurt if she left, I looked to God above and said, while holding her frail hand, “Please, God, take her so she won’t suffer anymore.” I stayed with her for a while longer and then told her I needed to get home to prepare for work the next day. She said, “Okay, baby, I love you. Please take care of your mother for me.”

I somehow knew that would be the last time I would see my grandmother alive. I hugged her and told her I loved her so much, and I thanked her for everything she had ever done for me. In the middle of the night, my grandmother passed on.

In April of 1998, I met the man of my dreams, and we soon married and had a beautiful baby girl. Then, in August of 1999, I was sitting in my bedroom when the strangest feeling came over me. All of a sudden, standing before me was my grandmother. She was so beautiful, and I could tell that she was pain free. There was a glow around her, and it was as if a wind was blowing her gown. She said, “My baby, I love you.” Then she started to walk away.

I said, “Wait a little bit. Please don’t go yet. I want you to meet Kevin, my husband, and to see our precious little girl.”

She turned back and said, “Honey, I knew Kevin a long time before you did. This is why I passed on. Can you understand what Nanny is saying, sweetheart? I passed on so that I could find Kevin for you. I searched and searched, and he is the one I wanted my baby girl to be with. You have a precious little girl. I know that. I was there.” Then she said, “I love you,” and turned and walked away into a bright hallway.

I started to say “I love you” back, but she was gone. I truly believe she is my angel.


My grandfather from my dad’s side passed away when I was 13, and I was so close to him. When I had my first baby at 21, he appeared to me, and I will never forget it!

I had just fed my son and had laid him back in the bassinet next to my bed. All of a sudden I felt cold, and there at the foot of my bed stood a form. I really couldn’t make it out, and it scared me. I couldn’t talk, move, or scream. This figure starting moving toward the bassinet, and I couldn’t do anything. Then it spoke, and I realized it was my grandfather.

He told me, “Don’t be afraid. I just wanted to see my great-grandson.” He leaned over the bassinet and touched my baby. Then he disappeared, and I have never felt his presence again.

I immediately picked my baby up and called my mom. She reassured me that it was okay, because the same thing happened to her withherdad when my oldest sister was born. Idobelieve in angels, and I know that they surround me and my kids!


In 1981, my mother passed away, and I was very upset. She was only 47 years old, and her death was completely unexpected. I was 21 at the time, and going through a divorce. My church had kicked me out because they said I had no grounds for divorce.

After my mom’s funeral, I was at home, feeling very concerned about whether she was at peace and was reunited with my father, who had also passed away. No one else was home that day except for my daughter, who was in bed asleep. At that moment, I heard someone rattle the doorknob. I was going to the door when I saw my mother standing there in the clothes I had buried her in. I was shocked. She said, “I have come to let you know it is beautiful where I am. Don’t worry any longer. I will always be with you.”

Since then, she has talked to me and come to me at other times. My daughter has also seen her. We’ve been told by others that there is no such thing as life after death, or that it’s evil to see and talk to a spirit … but we know what we have seen, felt, and heard; and we believe this to be very real and wonderful.

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When my brother and sisters and I were all young children, my father went to Houston for his job, while my mother and the four of us kids lived together in our home. One night my mother woke up to the smell of a particular fragrance: her mother’s perfume.

She opened her eyes to see the form of her mother, who was saying, “Wake up—turn on the porch light!” My mom replied, “No, I’m tired,” as she was half-asleep.

But her mother was insistent and emphatic: “Get up now and turn on the light!” So my mother got up, turned on the lights all around the house, and then went back to bed.

The next morning, she picked up the phone, only to discover that the line was dead. The telephone-repair technicians discovered that our phone lines had been cut, and they also found footprints under my bedroom window, so they went next door to call the police.

The technicians said that the person who had cut the phone lines really knew what he was doing, as the lines were underground. The police said that we were very lucky, because typically when phone lines are cut, the perpetrator has a much more sinister plan than just robbery. Putting on the lights must have scared him away. “Boy, were you lucky,” the police told my mother. However, she knew there was a lot more than luck involved, and she silently thanked her mom.


Luraine was a friend for 50 years, and she was stricken with cancer about three years ago. She told no one about her illness until a year ago. I sent her healing audiotapes, and used hypnotherapy on her over the phone. She wasn’t admitted to the hospital, but she would receive treatment there every day. I would call her daily, but sometimes after a very difficult day, she couldn’t call me back. One Saturday morning I called but didn’t hear from her. But this time, the reason she didn’t call me was because she had passed away.

That night, I was getting ready to go to sleep when I saw a figure in a purple shroud. Then the shroud fell off the figure’s head and shoulders, and there in a beautiful light I saw Luraine. She appeared youthful, looking like she had when she was about 30. She was very beautiful and healthy. Luraine wore a beautiful white velvet off-the-shoulders blouse, and she smiled with a heavenly look. I went to sleep feeling quite happy. The next day, I told her husband and daughter about the apparition, and they took joy in knowing that Luraine was no longer suffering.


About five years after my father died, I was going through a very stressful divorce. I was moving out on my own with two of my children, and I wasn’t very confident. I started having horrible dreams every night. One night, instead of a nightmare, I was awakened by a feeling of someone sitting on my bed. Thinking my youngest had come to sleep with me, I looked up. I was astounded to see the silhouette of my father at the end of my bed. He didn’t say anything; he just sat there.

This continued nightly for about two or three months, and I never had a nightmare after that time. The appearances quit just about the time things were starting to come together and I was becoming comfortable with myself. I realized that although my dad never said anything, he was there to comfort me when I needed him most.

Chapter 6



I recall so vividly the evening of my baby cousin’s christening. At the after-party at my grandparents’ house, the adults were eating, drinking alcohol, and carrying on.

Toward the end of the night there was a lot of commotion over a rowdy relative with a known drinking problem. My uncle was starting to make a spectacle of himself, becoming verbally and physically aggressive and out of control in front of everybody, young and old. He got so unruly at one point that he struck at my grandfather’s glass display cabinet in a rage. The whole case came down with a giant thud, and there were pieces of broken glass and china scattered all over the carpet.

Only eight years old, I was filled with uneasiness, as the whole event was quite frightening. I also became extremely worried about my father, as he was trying to defuse the situation and started to physically barricade my uncle from creating any more mayhem.

My father, although he had been drinking himself, took it upon himself to snatch the keys from this disorderly relative and drive him home, while my mother had to take me home by herself. As a clairsentient, I could also begin to feel my mother’s nervousness and suffocating fear for her husband, which only added to my anxiety!

Once back at home, I lay in my bed feeling so vulnerable, and overwhelmed with concern for my father’s welfare. I thought he might have an accident or that something terrible would happen.

At that moment, this glorious, heavenly angel manifested into form right in front of me, in the corner of my room. The angel looked and felt absolutely radiant and magical, with beautiful iridescent, shimmering rainbow hues surrounding and engulfing her. She felt so divinely feminine and protective, and her mere presence filled me with feelings of complete warmth and safety. Immediately I was soothed and comforted and just knew that my father would be all right. Sure enough, he came home completely safe and unscathed!

I feel forever blessed to have had this angel vision as a young child. From that moment onward, I have always believed in angels, and I knew for a fact that I had one watching over me! As a parent now, I am able to soothe and thrill my children with my very own angel story, and this helps them not only believe in the presence of angels, but also know that our family is safe and protected!


When I was five or six years old, I was awakened from my sleep to see a young man in a red choir robe with a red prayer book floating in my room. I screamed for my mother and father. The young man (I believe him to be my guardian angel) proceeded into my closet, and I ran down the hall to my mom and dad’s room, where I stayed for the rest of the night.

Many years later, my mother and I were discussing the tear in the screen of my window that my brother and I used to climb in and out of. I told my mother that I always wondered how it got there. I knew my brother and I weren’t responsible for it. She said that someone tried to break into our house through that window the night that I saw my guardian angel. She didn’t want to tell me because she didn’t want me to be afraid to sleep in my room. Now I know that my angel protected me from harm that night.

ANGELBABYby Suzanna Lonchar

The little fat baby always gave me such adorable smiles. I was about 11 years old and often stopped by to play with him at our neighbor’s house about three doors down. He was nicknamed Baby Butch, and I was taken by his charming smile and good nature. He was about nine months old—a beautiful infant with a head full of thick auburn curls.

Baby Butch’s mother was desperate to go out one evening, but she couldn’t find a babysitter. She asked my mother if I could babysit, but my mom said that I was too young for the responsibility.

Later that evening, I awakened from a deep sleep to see the most beautiful vision I’d ever encountered. Baby Butch was floating by the foot of my bed surrounded in clouds. This vision was so brilliant that it illuminated the room. He was wearing a crown; and it looked like he was surrounded by diamonds, rubies, and jewels sparkling like angel lights. He was gurgling, laughing, and happy. He had little wings and wore a little robe made of brilliant red velvet. It was the most magnificent sight! He resembled a picture of baby Jesus I had seen, with his tight auburn curls. The vision may have only lasted for a few seconds, but it was real, my eyes were wide open, and this was no dream. Afterward, I must have drifted back into a deep sleep.

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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, thereisa heaven, and angels are real.


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.


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.


When I was 16, on December 20 at 2:10A.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.


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!”


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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He told me I could die if I wanted to—that it was entirely my choice. There was no judgment attached to this, no right or wrong—just consequences. Either way I chose, I really was okay. But I also knew that if Ididdecide to die, I would come back and be in that same situation, making the same decision, all over again. I was sure that I didn’t want that, so I decided I would stay.

The angel then urged me to decidehowI would live. I saw two distinct paths—that of a “giver to life” and that of a “taker from life”—and I was to choose one. Again, there was no judgment in this decision. It was completely my choice. I was shown a vision of where each path led. I considered both … and I chose the path of a “giver.”


When my daughter, Ariel, was eight years old, I learned that she had many spiritual gifts. Ariel could see auras, hear her guides and angels, and tell you about the integrity and intentions of people.

One night, Ariel called to me from her bedroom. In her sweet and gentle voice, she said that her grandfather was asleep in the extra bed in her room. Ariel’s grandfather had died six years before. I was a little nervous about why he was there and if it “spooked” her.

So I asked Ariel what he was doing there, and she replied, “He has come to see how I have grown.”

From that moment, I was at peace with her gifts. I knew that they were from God and would protect and guide her in life in a way I never could. When a mother knows that her daughter is guided by angels, it makes child rearing a joy and not a worry.


Bedtime was my two-year old daughter Brittany’s least favorite time of the day. At night, she would beg us to stay with her until she fell asleep. This was very taxing on my husband and me.

One night I was all prepared for a struggle from Brittany when she said, “Mommy, you don’t have to stay here until I fall asleep—the angels will tuck me in.” Brittany went on to describe beautiful people in long, shiny white coats. These beautiful people sang her to sleep.


I was nine years old when my grandmother died of a massive heart attack. I had just found out about her death, and I locked myself in the bathroom so I could be alone. I had never known anyone who had died before and began wondering where she had gone, what really happened to her soul, and similar concerns. I had only been to church a few times as a child, but I had a deep belief in God and talked to Him through prayer every night. So in the bathroom alone, I began praying, asking for some kind of sign that my grandmother still existed and that she wasn’t alone or frightened in the dark, feeling pain.

Almost immediately, my grandmother appeared across the room, in a shimmering translucent cloud. It looked as though I were peering through an aquarium full of water. My grandmother, usually plain, looked so beautiful and happy. She was dressed in a pretty turquoise dress, and her hair was done up as if she were going out to a special event.

She spoke. She wasn’t actually moving her mouth, but her voice was clearly projected into my mind. She said, “Hi, honey. I only have a little time, but I want to let you know that I’m okay. I’m here with my mother, my sister, and the rest of my family who has passed on.” Tears welled up in my eyes, and I became afraid. Her image instantly started to blur, and she said, “I don’t want to frighten you, so I’ll go now.”

I said aloud, “No, don’t go. I’m sorry. I’m not afraid.”Oh God, please don’t take her away yet.“Please stay!”

As my grandmother’s image disappeared, she said, “I can’t stay. I only have a couple more moments with you. I really shouldn’t be here now. But I wanted to be sure you knew that I’m all right. I’m happy, and I have no more pain. I’ll be here waiting for all of you when it’s your time, many years from now.” And she was gone.

This experience helped me know that God has a direction for each of us. I’m not afraid of death for myself, and I know that when my other family members pass on, theywillgo on to a greater place.

It was a precious moment in my life, and I’ll never forget it.


My son, Matthew, had just turned five years old and was ready for kindergarten. I was concerned about him because I knew that he was clairvoyant and clairsentient.

In our home, we’d always talked of angels and God. We shared our visions and dreams, and we would see angels in our home throughout the day. My daughter, Faith, had gone through a few situations when expressing her spirit at school that led us to believe that many people aren’t willing to accept who they truly are. As a result, Faith shut down her gifts of clairvoyance and claircognizance. Children can be very cruel to one another, so Faith learned whatnotto share at school.

So, this was my concern for Matthew, because he is even more verbally expressive than his sister, which could have made him a target for ridicule. So I prayed continually about the situation.

My prayers were definitely answered! When I came to pick Matthew up from his first day of school, he ran into my arms, exclaiming, “My teacher believes in angels, Mom! And she wants to talk to you.”

I met Matthew’s teacher, a very pleasant woman. As we went into deeper conversation, she mentioned how wonderful it was having my son in her class, and how funny it was that she also had six other students that talked of angels so openly. She said that this had never happened before, and what a wonderful blessing it was.

Now when I take Matthew to school each morning, there is music in the classroom to create a tranquil mood—his teacher plays CDs that have “Angel” in the titles. Matthew tells me that the class even has a special chair for the angels, and they all get to have snack time together!


I was babysitting at the Sydney Hilton while the mother of baby Carly attended a conference when an amazing thing happened.

It was late in the evening, and Carly was fast asleep. Everything was going well—or so I thought! Then something startled her, and she began to cry. Carly was now awake.

I crept into her room, and there she was, standing up in her porta-cot, rubbing her eyes. She looked a little stunned to see me there instead of her mother. Hoping she wouldn’t be alarmed by the sight of me, I quickly called in the angels to help settle her down so her mother didn’t have to come back early.

I summoned Archangel Chamuel’s loving energy to help me with the situation. With that, Carly lay down, still rubbing her eyes, but in a surprisingly calm state. I softly asked, “You can see the angels, can’t you?” and with that, Carly pointed behind me!

Yes, the angels were there, and she could see them. They were looking after us and soothing beautiful baby Carly back to sleep. And sleep she did, soundly through the night. Thank you, Archangel Chamuel, for your loving assistance.

“DON’TBESAD”by Bill Fletcher

We lost my youngest daughter, Emma, in February 1990, when her best friend called to her from across a road, and she ran out into the path of a car without looking. She was put on life support at the hospital, but it became obvious that she was not going to recover. Emma passed away in the hospital.

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My eldest daughter, Elizabeth, was too grief stricken to sleep in the room she had shared with her sister, so we moved her bed into our room. Two Sundays later, she said that she had seen Emma the previous evening, and felt comfortable returning to her own bedroom.

When I asked what had happened, Elizabeth replied that Emma had stood at the side of her bed and said, “Don’t be sad; I’m all right now.” I asked if it was a dream, and my daughter said she had been sitting up in bed talking to her sister, so it couldn’t have been.

Then Emma’s best friend (who had called to her from across the road) came to me a couple of days after and excitedly said that she, too, had seen Emma. My daughter had said to her, “Don’t be sad. It had to happen, and I’m all right now.”

Chapter 7



I dreamed that I was in a museum looking at a painting of the Virgin Mary holding the baby Jesus. Out of nowhere the painting slowly moved. The Virgin smiled at me, extended her right arm, and handed me a magnificent red crown with gold trimmings and a diamond-shaped piece of gold jewelry at the top … and then I woke up. I was so amazed that Mother Mary had given me a gift.

A few days later I was with my brother at a Burlington Coat Factory store. He wanted to look around, and once again something amazing happened … I saw miniature statues of the Virgin Mary with that same crown on her head. I nearly jumped out of my skin! I’d gone to Catholic school for a number of years and hadneverseen an image of Mary with that particular crown. I’d seen her depicted with a blue-and-white cloak over her head or a golden halo, but never this crown. Oh, was I amazed. What validation! Here I thought that it had been a gift she’d chosen for me—I didn’t know that it was “her” crown she was giving me. What an honor.


I was living in Santa Monica in a single-unit guesthouse. During the month of June, it was often foggy, so my morning ritual was to look out the window upon awakening to see if bright light was shining in.

On this particular early morning, I had a very vivid and life-changing dream. Or was it a dream? In the “dream,” I sat up in bed and glanced at the window. There on the rice blind was the shroud of Jesus—just his face, about three to four feet in size. I said to myself, “Hey, that’s Jesus!” And just as I did, his face came in very clear, and a bolt of white light shot out of it right at me. The light had a paralyzing effect on me! I sat in bed and looked at my hands, and they were frozen stiff. I remember that my jaw was clenched, too. It was almost as if I’d had a seizure, but the feeling was one of total bliss.

I was not afraid at all. In fact, I had never felt more loved in my life. It was as though the light wasmadeof love. As the feeling of being paralyzed eased up and the light faded away, I heard a voice say, “This is just a small sample of the power of God’s love.” The light withdrew, and the vision of Jesus faded away.

I awoke, sat up in bed, and sobbed for about half an hour! It was as though I had received a major healing, a gift of what is available to us anytime we ask. And it is so powerful! It was by far the most amazing and meaningful experience I’ve had in this lifetime.

NEVERALONEby Kimberly McCright

When I was in college, I moved in with my grandparents since they lived in the same town as the university I was attending. After several months, I still hadn’t made any friends or had any dates. I was very lonely. All around me every day there were couples and groups of friends.

I grew very depressed, and one day while I was in the shower, I just broke down and cried. I became angry with God, wondering where He was, since I felt so cold and alone. I prayed to Jesus, and I begged him to come into my life and help me through this difficult time.

At I pulled back the curtain to step out of the shower, I saw an amazing sight. The mirror was completely fogged up, except for an outline of a face with long hair, a beard, and a mustache. I could also see the outline of eyes and a nose. It looked just like Jesus!

I couldn’t believe my eyes and just stood there staring. I felt a wave of warmth and love and knew that I was never alone. I can’t describe the healing that took place at that moment. I felt so blessed that Jesus would show himself to me in this way, to let me know that he is always here, always listening.

The fact that this happened to me, a “nobody,” really made me feel special. I realized that each of us is equally important in God’s eyes; we’re are all deserving of His love, and He never leaves us. Since then, I have never felt lonely. Very soon after that incident, I met my best friend, who introduced me to my husband.


My mother was hospitalized with leukemia, and after repeated, fruitless blood transfusions, the doctors and my sister finally decided it was her time to join Papa in heaven. Mama was afraid to die, for she thought the devil was waiting to grab her. By phone, I tried to reassure Mom that only friendly faces and Papa would be on hand to greet her on the Other Side.

I was unemployed, living in California at the time. Needless to say, I was greatly saddened that I didn’t have the plane fare to be with her. I meditated on the situation, finally seeking help from my dearest guide, St. Therese. She has even appeared to me once or twice while I’ve helped ailing friends.

Boldly, I asked St. Therese to go to my mother since I couldn’t be there. Months after Mom’s death, I was talking with my sister, Ramona. She volunteered the information that a sweet little nun had kept constant vigil by Mom’s side. When I asked about her, Ramona told me the color of her habit, and that her name was Sister Therese! Thank you, God and dear St. Therese. You have never failed to answer my prayers!


I had recently read Doreen’s bookAngel Visions,and I started praying that I might have a vision of my own. Nothing happened immediately, but about a week later, I had a dream that I really didn’t understand at the time. In it, I was awakened from my sleep by a call from my friend Ernie.

“Hello?” I answered the phone.

“Sherry,” he asked, “is Jesus over your house?” He said it with such amazement in his voice.

I was lying on my back with the phone to my ear, looking at the ceiling and shaking my head as I answered, “No, I don’t see Jesus.” This dream didn’t make any sense to me. In fact, I took it to mean that I wasn’t religious enough.

A week later as I drove home from work, a colorful glitter in the sky caught my eye. I glanced to my left and saw what looked like the face of Jesus surrounded by a yellow light. I remember peeking over my sunglasses, asking myself if the other drivers around me could see what I was seeing.

Before I knew it, it was time for me to turn right and head north, as I was just a few minutes from my house. I was surprised that a vision of Jesus was still in the clouds when I arrived. The only difference now was that he was looking up instead of straight ahead. I also noticed that he was wearing what looked like a bandana (I have been told that it was the crown of thorns). I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

My sister’s friend Pete was outside near my car. I pointed to the sky and asked him, “Tell me if that is Jesus, or am I seeing things?”

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Pete looked up to the vision and said, “Thatis Jesus.”

I didn’t relate the two events until I realized that in my dream, when my friend Ernie asked, “Sherry, is Jesus over your house?” it was supposed to prepare me for what I was about to see a week later.

JESUSHEALEDMEby Debbie Graham Hoskin

I had an experience about 20 years ago when I was on the road, singing professionally seven nights a week across the country for the Sheraton hotel chain. Because of the grueling schedule and lack of rest, I began having trouble with my voice. I was usually hoarse in the morning, but after resting my voice all day, it would return at night. After several months of this schedule, it became increasingly difficult to recover my voice each evening.

One morning I woke up and my voice was worse than ever. I was very upset at the thought of letting the band members down, not to mention the audience. I decided to pray, because I didn’t know what else to do. I closed my curtains, put a Do Not Disturb sign on my door, and took the phone off the hook. I was on my knees on the floor. I said very firmly, “God, You must fix my voice. I know You are there, and I know that You hear me. I beg You to heal my voice. I will not leave this floor until You heal my voice. I believe You can heal me.” I prayed intensely for about three hours.

I started to feel a presence in the room, as if someone had just walked in. I looked over at the door and saw the face of Jesus. I became paralyzed with fear. He took the fear away from me and told me telepathically, “I am love and kindness.”

He and his message were so strong that I was overcome. He approached me. I felt a hand brushing across my throat, and I sensed intense heat in that area. Then I felt the presence leave. I broke out into a sweat. I was healed, and I thanked God.

The experience changed me as a person and also changed the way I perceived life. No matter what problems I experienced, I always knew that God was my friend. It took me ten years before I told anyone about that incident. I was certain that no one would believe me. I still sing and perform; however, I became driven to fulfill a higher purpose on this earth. I now work with victims of abuse.

SOMUCHLOVE!by Marsha Zaler

I had an amazing dream that I will never forget: I was all alone in this white room, wondering where I was. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a glorious white light. When I turned to look, I saw the Sacred Heart of Jesus with his index finger pointing to his chest. He was looking down at me so lovingly that I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He was so beautiful, and the light was so full of love.

I looked up, and from the sky the wordsJesus and Mary love youappeared. Then the phrase fell to the ground with the loudest bang I had ever heard in my entire life. The entire dream was so moving that I woke up sobbing.


I was just about to finish college, and it seemed as if so many challenging things were going on simultaneously. I was having a difficult time letting go of college life, and was also experiencing a deep depression. If that weren’t enough, many important people in my life were moving away.

The most significant loss I experienced was that of my therapist, who was moving on. I was seeing her at a university counseling center where brief therapy was the norm because most of the counselors were interns in training. I had the rare opportunity to work with her for two years on and off; however, the termination of our sessions was inevitable.

With all of the changes and losses, I was depressed to the point of considering suicide. To help relieve my feelings of despair, I decided to go on a silent retreat. I go away every so often to be by myself as a means of regrouping, and to escape the hustle and bustle of daily life. I usually stay at a retreat center where retiring nuns live. Going there has always given me a sense of solace. To this day, I look forward to these couple of days where I don’t speak to anyone. I just spend time being with myself and talking to God. It gives me great comfort.

While I was on this particular retreat, I felt peaceful even though I was experiencing depression. On the second night of my stay, something happened that in many ways was indescribable.

I had just finished journaling and reading books on spirituality, and had fallen asleep with the lights still on. All of a sudden, the lights seemed to dim. I began to hear a humming sound like a thousand bees buzzing. Then I felt myself leaving my body. Initially, I was terrified, but then started saying in my mind,Let go, let God.As I continued to repeat this mantra, I felt myself lift out of my physical body until I was floating in the room.

I then noticed a white flowing entity enter the room. At first, I could not make out what it was, but then I realized that it was Mother Mary. She took my hand and led me outside of the retreat center. Then somehow we were flying in the air. I remember seeing the night lights all around me. It was an incredible sight. As we were flying, she took me to a place where I began communicating with three incredible bright lights.

To this day, I have no idea what the three entities spoke to me about. I just remember being suspended in midair over what appeared to be California, of all places! The three entities formed a triangle. As each light spoke to me, the entity would become brighter while the others lessened in intensity. Whatever they said to me changed my life. I then returned with Mother Mary to my room at the retreat center and went gently back into my body. I could hear a buzzing and feel a warm tingling sensation as I did so.

I immediately rose from my bed and knew that this experience was more than just a dream. My depression broke, and things in my life started to turn around for the better. I will never forget this experience as long as I live.


I was a 19-year-old newly single mother living with my parents after my baby’s father abandoned us. I had only been to church about ten times in my entire life. I had never read the Bible or prayed much. Then I had a life-changing dream.

In the dream, I walked from my bedroom in my parents’ house into the living room. There, sitting at the dining-room table, was Jesus, along with some other men dressed in the same style of clothing. It must have been nighttime and dark in my dream, because I felt like my parents were sleeping. Jesus had this intense glow around him.

Feeling very afraid, I ran to my parents’ bedroom, trying to wake them up. I was screaming, “Go away!” to Jesus and the other men. But my parents didn’t wake up. It felt like I was having a nightmare. Then, for some reason, I stopped crying and went back into the living room.

Jesus got up from the table, and he walked over to me. I was no longer scared. When he got close to me, I fell to my knees. I remember howextremely brighthe was, like an aura. His face was peaceful and beautiful. His robe was the very brightest white, with a blue stripe on it. As I remember the dream, what stands out the most was that Jesus was so intensely bright!

Then, while I was on my knees looking at him, I starting saying, “I’m so sorry,” over and over. He touched me with his left hand. I didn’t see him move his lips, but I somehow heard him say, “I forgive you.” When I heard these words, I felt warm, peaceful, happy, and filled with love. I had feelings that cannot be felt on this earth. I remember how very, very strong this impression was. I felt like part of the brightness of Jesus, of this immense love and warmth together. Then I woke up. I couldn’t figure out why I’d had this dream, but I knew how special it was, since it felt so real.

After the dream, I got a Bible and began reading it nightly. When I got to the parts about Jesus, I experienced really strong emotions, because I felt like he was my brother and close friend.


I saw an apparition of Archangel Raphael, Jesus, and what I believe to be my spirit guide—an old wise man from Tibet. This happened last year when my husband was in ill health.

My husband had a very high fever and a cough that was deep and full of congestion. One night was especially bad. I prayed, and asked for God and the angels to assist in the healing of my husband.

All of a sudden, Raphael, Jesus, and a spirit guide appeared in the right corner of my bedroom. Bright white lights surrounded the trio. I received instructions from the figures to place my hands on my husband’s back (the lung area) and other parts of his body so that the healing would occur.

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I know that one of the images was Raphael for sure, because I’d asked for him specifically, knowing all about his mission of healing from reading Doreen’s books. I recognized the other image as Jesus. I am not a fan of Jesus and was disappointed that he was there. Basically, I believe that he lived; I just don’t believe that he was the son of God. I asked the universe why Jesus was with Raphael and the Tibetan man. I was angry that he was present.

The answer came quickly. I was told that he had healed many people and that he had come as a result of my request for healing. Needless to say, my husband recovered directly after this vision. Additionally, I have been more at peace about Jesus since then—I have no more anger.


I went to India to see the avatar Sathya Sai Baba. One night we left the door of our temporary residence open because of the heat. I felt Baba come into the room and bless my hands and feet. I was thrilled, thinking,Baba’s here, and he is blessing me all over. I am blissful!

Then I awoke to find welts on my feet and hands, realizing that what I had felt were mosquitoes. I was irritated with myself for my foolish thoughts, saying within,Oh, it’s not Baba. It’s the mosquitoes.I then saw an image of Baba walking over to my bed. He shook his finger in my face and said, “No, Cheryl, I am in everything, including the mosquitoes. I am always with you!”

Within a few weeks of returning home to Arizona, I had a vivid dream of Baba. My husband, Jim, is a very aesthetic person, meaning that he focuses on how people and things look. Jim and I weren’t married yet, and he didn’t like the shape of my nose. It really bothered him, and he thought that if we were to marry, perhaps sometime I would get it surgically fixed. As an adolescent, I hadn’t liked the shape of my nose, either. Jim’s comments recharged my teenage angst about my physical appearance, and I became very self-conscious about my fat, ball-tipped nose.

I wondered what God thought of me for going along with this. I thought about Paramahansa Yogananda, and mostly, I wondered what Sai Baba thought. Was I a shallow person to get my nose fixed, to worry about keeping someone I loved by having surgery? Why was I giving this power over to someone else?

Well, in my dream, Baba came to me. He cocked his head from side to side, looking into my eyes with a childlike playfulness. Then he asked, “So, you do not like your nose?” and I shook my head. He then said, “I’ll fix it. Follow me!”

He went off into a large, bright orange tent, his right hand holding a needle up in the air. I followed him, thinking,Oh, Baba’s going to operate on my nose in my sleep—just like I read about!But as I followed him into the tent, everything disappeared, and I woke up.

So I went to the bathroom to check my nose, fully believing that Baba had changed its appearance—but he hadn’t. My nose still looked the same.

However, sometime later, Jim and I were married. When I mentioned looking for a good doctor to fix my nose, Jim had not only changed his mind, but he said that he couldn’t understand why my nose had ever bothered him in the first place.


When I was seven years old, I had a traumatic experience at the Catholic elementary school that I attended. Learning seemed difficult for me, and as a timid child, I avoided asking my teachers questions or requesting their help. During my first spelling test, I had such little faith in my ability that I felt my only option was to cheat to pass it. So cheat I did, in a ridiculously obvious manner. Well, much to my surprise, I was discovered.

As punishment, I was taken into the school storeroom and beaten on the hands with a ruler. The nun who carried out this cruel and humiliating beating was my teacher, Sister Anthony. My memories of her, which are as clear as yesterday—as well as the shame, hurt, and humiliation—have stayed with me all these years. Some may consider this to be a small issue, but to me it was huge.

From that day on, I spent the rest of my school years looking out the window. I switched off totally to any kind of English lesson and resigned myself to the fact that I was dumb. For many years, I felt a deep resentment toward Sister Anthony. By blaming her for my shortcomings, I blocked any healing of the situation. For a long time, I was able to get away with my bad English.

But then I had to study so that I could pass a six-hour exam that would allow me to work at a real-estate agency. I found the study time extremely stressful, as I constantly fought with the voice in my head that told me I was dumb and hopeless. Finally, I went into a meditation and asked Jesus and the angels to help me overcome my lack of belief in myself.

During my meditation, I met with Jesus. I saw and felt him say that he wished to take me on a journey. Jesus took me by the hand, smiled at me, and led me back into that classroom on that fateful day in 1969.

There stood Sister Anthony in the class full of children. But this time, instead of looking cross, she walked over to me smiling, and she crouched down, looking into my eyes. Her face had lost its hardness, as I remembered it, and I felt overwhelming love and forgivenessforher andfromher. It was so real!

Sister Anthony said that she was sorry for having hurt me, and that she was no longer on the earth. She told me that she loved me and that she would help me overcome my spelling problems. Sister Anthony said that all I had to do to attain her assistance was to ask.

I passed my real-estate exam and am now taking English lessons. My spelling has steadily improved. I also discovered that I am mildly dyslexic, but I know I can overcome it, thanks to Jesus introducing me to my new angel called Sister Anthony.


My mom died when I was seven and a half years old. She was a wonderful woman, who taught me more in those few years than most mothers can teach in a lifetime. After she died, my brothers and I were left to be raised by my grandmother. She didn’t like girls and blatantly told me so. My life was hell, and I often thought of committing suicide.

There were times when I would hear a male voice saying my name. My grandmother frightened me so badly by telling me that it was Satan. Maybe that’s what she was taught, who knows? Anyway, one night I was so sad and was crying, missing my mom and just wanting to join her in death. At that moment at the bottom of my bed, I saw a bright white light. I looked harder, and in disbelief I could make out the apparition of a man.

He spoke to me and told me that everything would be okay. I must tell you that at that moment, I felt safer than I had ever felt. I knew it was Jesus; and today, at 38, I still can feel that secure, safe feeling.


A few years ago, I had quite an “enlightening” experience. I was sitting on my bed when a beautiful light came toward me. At first I was frightened, but then an incredible peace came over me. The light emanated a voice! It spoke to me, saying,“Luce, lucina. Bella luce, lucina.”I later learned that in Italian this means: “Light, little light. Beautiful little light.” Since then, I have realized that it was St. Francis who came to comfort me at that time.

In my heart, I know that he has been with me ever since! He is definitely working with me in promoting peace in this world, and love for all of God’s kingdom, which of course includes animals and plants. Birds and butterflies in particular have been ever-present for me. When I am driving my children across town, which is only five minutes away, birds and butterflies go right in front of my car and stay there, flapping their wings. I know it is common for birds to be flying around, but not right in front of someone’s car.

On one ride across town, my youngest son counted nine birds that flew in front of us, either right by the windshield or at ground level. One such bird made me slow down, thank goodness, because I was going much too fast. After I did so, I noticed a police officer at the end of the block. I giggled, and thanked the bird silently for preventing me from getting a ticket.

Chapter 8

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DADISSTILL WITHUSby Michelle Massip Handel

My father died suddenly of a heart attack at age 61. My mother, my brother, and I were shocked. One night after his death, I had an auditory experience where he told me to stop making such a big deal out of it. He said that he was fine, and that he didn’t want me to feel so sad. I called my mother immediately, only to find out that she’d had a similar experience.

My brother was at the beach at the time, and when he returned home, he called me. He said, “I just want you to know that I was down at the beach thinking about Dad, and he’s okay.” Then I told him about my mother’s and my own similar experiences.

The three of us continued to have dream visitations. When I woke up from one of these visits, I felt as if I had really spent time with my dad. It felt very good. Dad and I visited in my dreams the nights before my birthday for several years. I felt like it was my birthday gift from him.

One day my mother told me that she broke down crying because she couldn’t fix something in the house, something my father would have taken care of. She heard him tell her to get a tool out in the garage, and he even told her specifically where it was.

I’m no longer getting visits from my father in my dreams that I remember, but I certainly talk to him and feel his presence.


In February of 1991, my mother-in-law passed away after a long battle with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. She died a slow and painful death, and it was a very difficult period. My firstborn son, her first grandchild, was only four months old at the time of her passing. I believe that her desire to see him kept her alive those last few months.

About a week after she died, I had a “dream” where I was somehow transported to the sanctuary of the church where my mother-in-law’s memorial service had been held. For a short time, maybe a minute, I was alone. Then she appeared. She was so beautiful. She looked like herself, full figured and round faced, but glowing. I had never seen her looking so healthy and vibrant.

She greeted me in her jovial way and said, “Don’t worry—I’m okay. I’m not sick anymore; it’s so wonderful!” She was wearing a long, flowing flowered gown. She said that she was wearing that gown because God had placed her in a garden, and that it was more beautiful there than anyone could imagine. I could actually smell the flowers as she described them. I felt total peace.

The next thing I remember, I was awakened by my husband. We both sat straight up in bed in complete shock. The hallway outside our bedroom was filled with a magnificent light. There were no lights on in the house, and it was well past midnight. Just as the light faded away, a rose that we had saved from the memorial service spun in its vase. I was so glad we had both witnessed this or I would have probably thought I was crazy!


My father lived alone in Arizona, quite a distance from his other family members and me. My sisters and I spoke with him by phone regularly, so when we didn’t hear from him for several days, we got worried. My sister called the local police and requested that they go to Dad’s home. They found my father dead on his bed. Apparently he had died several days earlier.

An autopsy was never conducted, as the coroner said that Dad had died of natural causes. However, it bothered my sisters and me that we never found out what our father died of.

Over the next few months, I would wake up out of a sound sleep with the feeling of my father’s presence at the end of my bed. But I was too afraid to look at my father’s apparition in case he looked frighteningly decayed, like when his body was discovered by the police. I shared this fear with my sister, and she reassured me that Dad would look just like he did when he was healthy and living.

Well, my sister was right. I had a dream where she and I were putting dishes away and talking about Dad. The next thing I remember, everything turned white around me. My sister was no longer there, and my dad was sitting at my kitchen table. I remember how good he looked, and I told him so. I also told him that I loved him and missed him. I noticed that while sitting there, he wasn’t smoking or drinking coffee like he always did.

I asked him what had happened. He told me that he had died of a heart attack. After that, I woke up and have been at peace about my father ever since.


On June 1, 1998, my father passed on suddenly. He and I were very close in our own way. Dad was born in the 1920s, and his family was not the most openly loving group of people. I hadn’t embraced him since I’d been a child, and I hadn’t kissed him since he’d come out of quadruple-bypass surgery six years earlier. Still, we had a relationship that was comfortable for Dad, if not 100 percent fulfilling for me. And we were both well aware of how much we loved each other.

I try very hard not to overlook special days for special people in my life, and Father’s Day 1998 was no exception. I had purchased cards for Dad weeks before his passing. So, when the time came for his viewing, I felt it was very important to place his cards in his hands, and I did so.

In the cards, I wrote very personal notes to my father that I haven’t shared with a soul. I had to tell him that I loved him very much. I thanked him for being the best father he knew how to be, and for never making me doubt his love. I told him I was glad he got to spend some retirement years with Mom, something I had prayed to God for all my life. And I told Dad that even though I was now a man, I would still always be his one and only little boy. I knew that he was proud of me, and we had no unresolved issues. I closed the last card by telling him that I would be thinking of him on Father’s Day, and that I would feel peace in knowing he was with God.

Two weeks later, the Saturday before Father’s Day arrived. That night I went to bed with thoughts of my father. I had a wonderful dream in which he walked into the room and stood silently. He looked at me and at first seemed somewhat confused, and then he slowly began to smile.

I asked, “Dad, are you okay? What do you want to tell me?”

Dad continued smiling and looked into my eyes. He replied, “I want you to know I am okay, Chuck. Do not worry. It is beautiful here, and I have never been happier.” (Dad didn’t have an easy life.)

I woke up with an overwhelming sense of peace and security. My father was in God’s care. The world was right again.

Another month passed, and my mother had a dream about my father. In it, he stood before her holding the hand of a small blond boy.

My mother said, “I love you very much, and I miss you, honey.”

Dad smiled back and said, “I know.”

My mother looked at him again and said, “I am a bit confused. Who is that small boy with you?”

My father replied, “I don’t know, dear, but he was lost and told me he did not want to be alone, so I took his hand to keep him company.”

The dream ended. My father loved children. I found this dream to be so typical of him, and I often wonder who that child was. I pray for them both. I hope that whoever lost that boy has had their own dream and knows he is well.

Perhaps reading my words will in some way comfort someone else who has lost a loved one. Actually, I don’t care for the wordlost,in this sense, since I believe that my father is still very much with me.


My dear nephew passed away at the age of 35 after a long struggle with malignant melanoma. He lived his last months with his parents in Chile, and the only thing that I, his godmother, could do for him from my home in the United Kingdom was pray for him. I began to pray every day to his angels to be with him and to give him faith, as well as relief from his pain.

One night I dreamed that I was there with my nephew at a family gathering. Everybody was wearing white clothes, and although it was a wedding celebration, everyone was looking sad and silent. I found my nephew sitting in an armchair, looking very weak and thin. He was surrounded by a group of good friends in white robes who were very cheerful and happy to be with him and to protect him. I woke up feeling sure that I had seen his angels in my dream.

The morning after my nephew passed away, I went into a church to pray for him. As I left, a young man came walking down the street who looked exactly like him! Even his way of walking and his clothes resembled my nephew’s. I had to stop and stare in amazement, so the lad smiled … and his smile was also like my dear nephew’s. Of course it was no apparition—he was a real person—but the “coincidence” was very striking.

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