Since I was a small child, I have been aware of angels' and God's presence in my life. I've always felt comfortable conversing with Spirit and the often unseen and unnoticed helpers. It just seems so natural whenever I silently discuss my problems or questions with them through my heart and my mind. I am always so awed and joyful whenever I recall how God, when we allow it, resolves the most difficult situations. This is one vignette of the many miracles I continue to see all around me.

One morning, in 1980, the phone rang. It was my grandmother from southern California. "Dad has had a major stroke. He's in a coma in the ICU. I need you here, now." Sadly, I was on the next available plane south.

My uncle met me at the airport and we went directly to the hospital. "He's not talked or made any response since the stroke. He's completely on life-support systems, and the doctors hold little hope for him coming out of the coma," he gently told me.

We went directly to the ICU. I nodded to my grandmother, who was sitting at her father's bedside, and instinctively reached out and held my great-grandfather's hand. I closed my eyes and spoke silently from my heart, just as I do with Spirit.

"Hello, Grandpa...it's going to be okay...just follow the Light." In my heart I could hear his distress.
"But what if Momma's not there?" My great-grandfather had been forlorn since my great-grandmother, whom he affectionately called "Momma," had died in 1968. I knew his heart longed to be with her, and life didn't seem to hold much value for him without her.

My grandmother jumped up and said, "He squeezed your hand! He hasn't responded to me the whole time!"

I didn't open my eyes...I knew it was important to maintain the connection I had established. Our dialogue continued in the realm of the heart, unheard by others, but confirmed by my great-grandfather's reactions.

"She'll be there, grandpa, just look for the Light."
"What if Momma's not there?" he wailed with anguish to my heart.
"She'll be there, grandpa," I sent with all the heartfelt love and trust within me, for within my mind's eye, I became aware of angels encircling his bed.
"See the angels, grandpa...they'll take you to Momma."
"I'm scared, What if Momma's not there?"
"She'll be there, grandpa, I know she will, the angels will guide you. Let go. Follow them. It will be all right."

Gram was becoming increasingly agitated over her father's physical reactions during our silent conversation. Her excitement was too distracting for me to continue the internal dialogue with my grandfather. I gently let go of his hand, with a silent plea to the angels hovering around the bed to bring my great-grandmother to him so he would no longer be afraid. Together, the three of us sat, keeping a silent vigil over my great-grandfather. In my heart, I prayed for the angels to help him.  Finally my uncle, grandmother, and I went home for the evening.

My grandmother was very distraught. She was fretting whether she should order her father's life-support disconnected the following day. I tried to be of comfort by telling her that the angels would take care of Grandpa. Gram was too emotionally caught up within herself to listen. She was trapped in an internal moral and ethical debate of massive proportions: whether it was right, appropriate, and kinder to continue life support in a hopeless situation, or to disconnect the artificial life support and allow the inevitable to happen sooner. I went to bed knowing that the issue creating so much stress within my grandmother, and keeping her up, was being resolved by God through his angels. Still, I was saddened, that like so many others, both my great-grandfather and my grandmother were blinded in their hearts by their own issues and fears...issues and fears that prevented them from being aware of God's love and help. Quietly I prayed that the angels would work on alleviating their fear by demonstrating God's presence to both of them.

The next morning, my grandmother informed me over our coffee, "We're going to the hospital and I'm going to authorize Dad's life support disconnected." I knew this was a terribly hard decision for my grandmother to make, and I knew that it was an action my grandmother did  not need to take. Once more I silently prayed to the angels...this time, for them to hurry up!

When we got to the hospital, my grandmother asked the head nurse of the ICU for the forms to authorize the disconnecting of her father's life-support system.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Hensley, his wife will have to sign them," she replied.
Annoyed, my grandmother retorted, "My mother has been dead for twelve years, and as next of kin, I have had "power of attorney" for my father, for the last five years."
The nurse became equally annoyed. "That's impossible. Mrs. Ferguson has been sitting with her
husband all night."

Now my grandmother was really mad and fuming.  She stormed into the ICU to confront this imposter, but no one was there but my grandfather.  The nurse remarked that she must have stepped out.  My grandmother demanded a description of this woman.  The nurse dutifully described what sounded like my great-grandmother, even down to the details of a favorite dress she used to wear.  My grandmother was now in a great fury and demanded to talk to the nurse who checked this woman's identification and allowed her in.  That nurse couldn't be located in the coffeee room and had since gone off duty.  Increasingly frustrated, my grandmother demanded to see he doctor on duty.  She again reiterated her request to take her father off the life-support system.  But he also refused, based upon the nurse's information.  Now, with great indignation, my grandmother informed me that we were going to the family attorney's office where we would get the legal proof of her mother's death, return to the hospital to deal with this obviously incompetent staff, and expose her mother's imposter!  I tried not to laugh.  I was internally bubbling with joy at this demonstration of divine intervention for my great-grandfather.  I knew that if my great-grandmother had now disappeared from his bedside, he wouldn't be far behind.  Before we even got to the elevator to leave for the lawyer's office, the nurse rushed out to inform my grandmother, that her father had just died.  I breathed a sigh of relief and sent a heartfelt thanks to God and the angelic host.

My grandmother, even throughout the funeral preparatons, was obsessed with the identity of the mysterious woman.  At the gravesite she was continually asking people if they had ever seen or known of her father clandestinely meeting with another woman!  My uncle and I stood quietly apart from all this activity.  Knowing that my uncle is more open-minded than many about my experiences and visions, I told him about what went on with my great-grandfather and that the mystery woman was probably either my great-grandmother or an angel posing as her.  My uncle seemed to turn inward and quietly reflected on what I had just told him.

He nodded at me and said, "I believe you.  But somehow I don't think Mom would understand or believe you. This mysterious woman has blinded her to everything else around her."

We've never told my grandmother.  Maybe she'll read this someday.  Experiences like this have led me to try to share with others the truth of how ANYONE can talk in their heart to God and the angels, how simple prayers...from the heart...are answered.  Miracles, even manifesting as a mysterious woman, aren't rare; they just require an open heart to be perceived.