One night in the early 1990s after I’d gotten my children to bed, I went into the family room where I settled onto the couch with a book. From my vantage point on the couch, I had a clear view of the hallway leading to the bedrooms, and I’d found that sitting there allowed me to both see and hear if the boys were up, or if there were any last requests made for a drink of water or whatever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Everything was quiet that night, and I continued to read until a friend called, as he often did late at night. We talked about everything and nothing–about our kids, about his work, about the challenges of being single parents with young children–and suddenly I noticed a pale blue, wavering light that seemed to move out of my youngest son’s bedroom into the hall. I told my friend about this, commenting that\u00a0this\u00a0was certainly odd, because car lights didn’t come in through that bedroom window, and there were no windows in the hallway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When the light maintained a steady position just outside of my son’s door, I told my friend to hold on–that I wanted to see if I could figure out where it was coming from. But as I walked down the hall, I could no longer see it. I peeked in my son’s room and he seemed a little restless in his sleep, but was otherwise okay. The shade was pulled all the way down at his window, and the only light in the room was coming from a small nightlight that he always used.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I returned to the phone and told my friend what had happened, saying that whatever it was, it was gone. I said I was still puzzled as to the source of the light, and my friend jokingly said, “Spooks.” We both laughed and continued our conversation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
About fifteen minutes later–while still on the phone–I saw the same thing. A pale blue light–about a foot off of the floor and approximately 4 feet in height–moved out of my son’s bedroom into the hallway. Again I told my friend to hold on, and I walked towards it. My house wasn’t that large, and it took no time at all to cover the distance, but even though I kept my eyes on it the whole time that I was walking, it simply wasn’t there when I got there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Again I checked my son who was still a little restless, then I returned to the family room, saying a quick prayer for protection and visualizing my house and my children being sealed in divine light….<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I told my friend what had happened this time, and said that it was starting to freak me out a little bit. I couldn’t figure out where the light was coming from and how it appeared to move…. He offered a couple of suggestions (which I quickly shot down, because I’d already checked), and we talked for a few more minutes before saying goodnight. After reading another couple of chapters in my book, I walked down the hall, checked in on both boys (who were sleeping soundly) and went to bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The next morning I’d all but forgotten the incident as sunlight poured in through the windows and “Nickelodeon” blared from the TV in the family room. When I asked my youngest (who was about 3-1\/2 at the time) how he had slept, he said he’d been kind of scared during the night. I asked him why, and he said that a man had been in his room, standing at the foot of his bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“A man?” I asked, and my son nodded his head, his eyes widening a little, as he remembered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked, reminding him that he was never<\/em> alone in the house, and that I always had my “mommy ears” on. (I think that “mommy ears” are standard issue for mothers with infants and young children. We can sleep through a lot of noises, but all our children have to do is whisper, “Mom,” and we’re instantly awake….)<\/p>\n\n\n\n My son went on to say that he hadn’t called me because he had pretended to be asleep, so that the man wouldn’t notice him. From what he could tell me about this experience (and I asked questions very<\/em> carefully, not wanting to scare him), the man didn’t talk to him and didn’t seem like anyone “bad.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n According to my son, the scary part was just knowing that someone was in his bedroom–and not once<\/em> did this 3-1\/2 year old assume that it might have been a “real” person that he knew. I think he was aware of the fact that he hadn’t seen an “ordinary” man standing at the foot of his bed….<\/p>\n\n\n\n As I thought about the light that I had seen, wondering if I’d\u00a0also\u00a0seen this “man,” I casually said that maybe it had been his guardian angel. I tried to sound as nonchalant about it as possible, as if this type of thing happened all<\/em> the time, and that it was no big deal to sometimes see special angels. I talked about how much God loves us, about how angels were always around watching out for us, etc., etc.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My son listened for few minutes, and then he interrupted me:<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Mom,” he said, with infinite patience, as if he had to choose his words carefully to ensure that they’d get through my obviously thick skull. “If an angel wants to knock on the door like a regular person, fine. We’ll open the door and let him in. But I don’t want them in my room when I’m sleeping, and I don’t want to see<\/em> them!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n I had to turn away to keep from laughing at his serious and totally rational response, and then I told him that I thought the angels would understand and respect his feelings about it, because they certainly didn’t want to frighten him with their presence. And I guess they\u00a0did<\/em>\u00a0respect my son’s request, because it never happened again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u00a9 SKB 2000, 2023<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" One night in the early 1990s after I’d gotten my children to bed, I went into the family room where I settled onto the couch with a book. From my vantage point on the couch, I had a clear view … Continue reading