Seeing Angels
Emma Heathcote-James has collected experiences
from a great number of people who believe that they have been helped by
angels. Here is an unusual account from
Seeing Angels
in which the angel
is seen by more than one person. The husband relates how he and his son
were sitting at the bedside of his wife, who had just had an allergic reac-
tion to the anaesthetic of a hysterectomy.
Suddenly, through my tears, I saw what I thought to be a figure, an
angel, behind the bed rails – I ignored it, thinking it was [brought
about by] exhaustion and anxiety. A few minutes later I looked to see
my son staring at the same spot – he turned to me and asked if I too
could see the angel behind the bed. That moment the staff nurse was
passing the foot of the bed and I turned and asked her if she could see
anything other than us in the cubicle – the nurse smiled and told us not
to presume it meant the worst. She acted as if this was a normal occur-
rence. I turned back to my wife and watched the figure melt away.
Literally from that moment on my wife regained consciousness.
107
Here is a case where reassurance was given at a time of uncertainty.
I was in my seventies, facing a major life-changing decision and was
unsure as to what to do for the best. In the past I had often thought
that I would love to see an angel but was quite unprepared to open my
eyes early one morning to see a huge figure in the corner of the room.
He was almost higher than the room itself, dressed in beige robes and
had beautiful wings. He was very bright and seemed to shine. I opened
and closed my eyes several times to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming.
Types of Spiritual Experience
125
The angel seemed to be telling me, without words, to be at peace. From
then on I felt calm and reassured about the move abroad which my
husband and I were to make, which subsequently turned out to have
most definitely been the right decision. [005444]
Dreams
Thich Nhat Hanh is a well-known Vietnamese Zen Buddhist monk, who
was a peace negotiator after the Vietnam War and nominated for the
1967 Nobel Peace Prize by Martin Luther King. Thich Nhat Hanh has
written many books on spirituality and in
No Death, No Fear, Comfort-
ing Wisdom for Life
he recounted a dream which altered his perspective
on the death of his mother.
The dream took place over a year after his much-loved mother had
died, a time when he was still deeply mourning her. Thich Nhat Hanh was
sleeping in the highlands of Vietnam when he had a powerful dream of
spending time talking with his mother, who looked young and beautiful.
When he awoke, Thich Nhat Hanh went outside into the moonlit night,
feeling very strongly that his mother was still with him. He felt as if the
moonlight was his mother’s gentle caress. Looking down at his feet, he
realized that his own body was a continuation of her and his father and
grandfather, that they lived on in him. He realized that the loss of his
mother was a false idea, and that she had not left him, but would always
be with him.
Many people have comforting dreams after the loss of a loved-one.
Twelve years ago my husband died after a most distressing illness and
many months of growing paralysis. Neighbours and friends were so
kind, but somehow I seemed numb inside and couldn’t forgive myself
for not being with him at the end, and I slept badly.
However, the third night after, came my most wonderful dream – or,
rather, I’m sure it was a vision, as ordinary dreams are so soon forgot-
ten. I dreamed that I was in a large field and crowds of folks were com-
ing towards and passing me . . . but amongst them I was searching for
one face, my dear husband. Finally, in despair I gave up and went
home, and in joy I cried ‘Oh you’re home!’ and went to him, and I felt
the gentle pressure as he put his arm round me (he was so weak).
How can I describe the wonder and glory of his face? The memory
makes my heart beat so fast even as I write after all this time. His face
was so young and smooth, and a wonderful radiance all about him –
even his eyelashes seemed tipped with sparkles of gold. He gave me the
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126
sweetest smile, which filled me with the strangest sense of happiness,
even elation, and then he turned and resumed the same attitude as
when he died.
I awoke sobbing, but they were tears of happiness – he had come
back to comfort me and I knew he was ‘home’ with joy and at peace
with his Lord, who had surely made his face to shine upon him.
Since then, both dear parents and several loved-ones have passed on
and, apart from a sense of deep loss, I have never really grieved, and
even rejoiced knowing they were at peace in God’s keeping. [abridged
from 2604]
108
In the following experience the dreams were ‘manipulated’ to try to
keep in contact with the deceased.
I had lost my father in September 1985, so almost three years
before, and still missed him. I had taken to trying to go to see him in
dreams. Every now and again, I would think intensely about him
before going to sleep, willing myself to go to ‘the other side’ to talk
with him. This resulted in some very clear dreams in which he would
walk with me, often through lovely woodland, like near our home. We
would talk about what it was like for him to be dead. I can’t really
remember the gist of the conversations, but I would wake comforted
that he was not entirely beyond reach. He had been a deeply religious
man, and had always disapproved of mediums, which is why I didn’t
try that.
In Tioman – a holiday resort island – I tried to dream again. I found
myself in what seemed like a Middle-Eastern setting but no sign of
Daddy. I asked a shadowy figure where he was and was told that he
was sitting under a tree some way away. This communication was
imparted somehow, words were not really the way it happened. I got
the impression that I shouldn’t try to see him. I wanted to know why
the living couldn’t talk to the dead, why those over there were not able
to communicate with us. The figure said – or imparted – something
about language, life and death, indicating that the way of communica-
tion was different. He began to rock rhythmically towards and away
from me, seeming to say ‘It’s like this, like this’ while moving forwards
and backwards. I woke suddenly to my husband comforting me, ask-
ing if I had had a nightmare as I had been making the most awful
moaning noises.
I subsequently stopped trying to contact my father that way and
came to an acceptance of the separation of the living and the dead.
[005448]
Types of Spiritual Experience
127
Dreams can sometimes give messages, and if one is open to that inter-
pretation, a new turn of events can result from a dream.
I was climbing a muddy steep cliff path. I kept slipping back, clutching
tufts of slippery grass that came away in my hand. I could see the top
of the cliff, but not what was beyond it, except white sky. I fell to the
bottom of the path, and started up again, the same thing happened.
On my left, I could see a sort of antechamber with white pillars,
from which broad marble steps led upwards, parallel to the cliff path.
There were people standing among the pillars. They seemed to be talk-
ing amiably, they were wearing robes, or flowing clothes of some sort.
These did not have a formal or ritualistic look, they seemed to be quite
informal and comfortably casual.
No-one seemed aware of me, still struggling up my steep muddy path
within a stone’s throw. I went on trying, and failing, to reach the top.
Eventually I gave up, and, wondering as I did so what would be
the reaction of these clean, relaxed, sophisticated people if I approached
them, I abandoned the cliff path and went into the marble hall. To my
surprise and pleasure, I was able to wander around without causing
dismay, I don’t remember engaging in conversation, but I felt welcome,
and even experienced a sense of familiarity in this place among
these people.
After a while I approached the staircase. ‘So much easier, but
am I allowed?’ I thought. I began to mount the steps, and found I had
someone on each side of me, amiably accompanying me. I woke before
I reached the top. . . .
Two days later I . . . enquired about the MA in Religious experience
. . . there was a residential the next week, and I should just come and
join in. that’s how I came to be an MA student, editor of De Numine,
happily part of the life of TRS. . . feeling I have come home. The signifi-
cance of the dream should be obvious, I’m just slightly disappointed in
the Lampeter College dress code these days, and I haven’t found the
marble staircase. [100058]
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