My Grandson when he was about six years old started having, among other experiences, encounters with angels. One day when we were passing a cement statue of an angel I asked him,“Ryan, is that what the angels you see look like?” He looked at the statue and said,“Yes.” and then more hesitantly,“Oh Poppa, I don’t know if I really see angels are not. They kinda look like that statue, but they don’t. The angels I see all have bodies of light.”
I said,"Don’t worry Ryan, I am sure you see angels.
Amother time I took a mother to see her nine year old daughter that she had not seen in 3 years. As soon as I saw the daughter, I heard interiorly,“She has seen angels.” I thought to myself,“Yeah, right. No one in her family believes in God or prays. She hasn’t seen angels that is just your thought. Don’t start anything, just let the mother and daughter have their day.”
Later the mother asked me to take her daughter into McDonalds. Right next to the entranceway was a picture of cherubic angels with the word ‘welcome’ written across it. I rolled my eyes Heavenward and thought to myself, and who ever else might be listening,“Yes, yes, I know. I see it. Okay, okay, I’ll ask.”
As if that were not enough the girl went straight to the sign and tracing the letters read aloud,“w…e…l…c…o…m…e.”
“Do you know about angels?”, I asked.
“Only that they are dead and that they are up in heaven or the sky or someplace.”
“Sure she knows about angels. Yeah. I am just going to leave it alone.”
As we placed our order, I heard interiorly,“She has heard angels sing.”
“Yeah. Right. No way. I am not saying anything.”
Later that day, the daughter and I were once again alone when I was prompted to ask her again, so I said,“Today when I asked you about angels, you know more than what you told me don’t you?”
She looked at me shyly and said,“Why do you ask?”
I laughed and said,“That’s okay, you don’t have to tell me, but I know you have seen angels haven’t you?”
“When do you see them?”, I asked, wondering whether it was in dreams or awake.
“In my bedroom,” she said.
“In your bedroom?”
“Yes, in my mirror.”
“What do they do?”
“They just look at me.”
“Do they ever talk?”
“Yes. One spoke to me last night. He had a soft voice like yours. He told me not to worry, that my mother had changed and she would not be going back to jail anymore.”
I thought to myself,“That’s enough. Don’t get her upset.”
We walked in silence.
she said,“Is there a place called Hell?”
“Yes”, I said.
We again walked in silence.
“Why did you ask about Hell?”, I finally asked.
Her lips started to tremble and she said,“I know bad people go to Hell and I know bad people go to jail and my mommy has gone to jail and I am afraid she is going to go to Hell.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Remember what the angel told you about your mother changing and that she was not going to go back to jail. The only people that go to Hell are those that won’t let God help them and I am sure your Mother will let God help her.”
Again we walked in silence.
“Have you heard angels sing,” I asked.
“Yes.”
“When”, I asked, wondering whether it was in dreams or awake.
“When they play that instrument with all the strings. You know the…”
“The harp”, I suggested.
“Yes”, she said in awe,“That thing is worth lots and lots of money! You should see how careful the angel is with it!”
I started to laugh saying,“I don’t think God measures things in terms of money.” Then the laugh died on my lips as I considered how careful an angel was with an inanimate object like a harp because it belonged to God, and how much I must offend Him by not being more gentle with His people.
Later I had the daughter relate to her mother the stories she had told me. The mother replied,“Honey, don’t let anyone tell you what to believe. If you want to believe in God, you go right ahead, but as for mommy, well I am not sure that there is a God and if there is He sure does mean things.”
“Oh no mommy, you have got it wrong. God can’t do mean things. Only people can!”
I was impressed by the fact that she had used the word can’t and not the word won’t.