Miracles Can Happen
Miracles Can Happen by Kenneth James Michael MacLean
Copyright © 2007 by Kenneth James Michael MacLean
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ISBN 13: 978-0-9794304-1-1
ISBN 10: 0-9794304-1-0
1st Printing – October 2007
Also by K.J.M. MacLean:
Miracles Can Happen is distributed by:
Baker & Taylor, Ingram Book Group
734 668 0639
The Big Picture is an imprint of:
Loving Healing Press
“Dad, are you all right?”
Amanda walked down the hallway to her parents bedroom. The door wasn’t closed all the way, and she could hear dad crying again. Amanda opened the door all the way and stood with her head cocked to one side, looking at her father. She was a very intelligent girl, with a pleasing face, big brown eyes, and curly brown hair.
Frank Martin was seated on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.
”It’s mom, isn’t it dad.” She said it not like a question, but like a fact.
“I’m sorry honey,” he said, raising his head and looking her in the eyes. “I just loved her so much.”
Tears rolled silently down his cheeks, and his eyes were red.
Amanda, only 8, was wise beyond her years. Her father was a handsome man, she thought. She knew that because mom had told her many times.
She saw her father glance up at mom’s photo on the bureau. Dad had been looking at that photo a lot lately. She knew he had been having trouble at work since mom died, and was having difficulty concentrating.
“Dad,” Amanda said, “It’s going to be all right.”
Frank looked at her daughter, so cute and so young, and felt a rush of sadness for Leah and the life they could have had together as a family.
“She’s gone, my wonderful Leah, she’s gone and I feel so bad,” he said bitterly, lowering his head into his hands once more. “And I curse the God that allowed her to die when everything was perfect.”
Amanda, startled at this unexpected display of emotion, stepped back.
Frank melted and rushed to his daughter, lifting her off the floor and into his arms. “I’m sorry sweetheart,” Frank said, and Amanda could feel the warmth of his love.
“That’s better, daddy,” she said. She looked straight into his eyes and said, “we still have each other.”
“That’s right, sweetheart, we do,” said her father. His face brightened as he regarded her with loving eyes, and all seemed to be OK. But after their reading session and he had put her to bed, she could hear him sobbing in the bedroom across the hall.
That night, Amanda drifted off to sleep and dreamed vividly. She dreamed that she was walking in a grassy meadow, with trees and lots of wildflowers growing everywhere. The sky was clear blue, with little puffballs of clouds. She was very happy. Somehow, in her dream, she remembered that mom was dead, and she began to feel sad.
Suddenly, the clouds seemed to come together and they formed the shape of an angel. Behind the angel’s head, the sun shone and it’s rays looked just like a halo.
“Who are you?” Amanda asked. She had never in her life seen anything so beautiful. The angel wore a robe of beautiful dark blue silk with silver lacing, and her halo looked like spun gold.
“Are you real?” Amanda said breathlessly. She was in awe of this magnificent creature, who seemed to be made of light. But it was a kind of light that did not hurt your eyes.
The angel smiled, a big smile that spread sunlight all over Amanda, and made her feel very good, and very special.
“I’m just as real as you are, Amanda. I am what you might call an angel.”
“My dad says that angels don’t exist,” the little girl replied. “He says they are filaments…figaments…of my imagination.”
The angel threw her head back in amusement, and made a sound like the wind chimes on her back porch, only a million times better.
“What’s your name?” Amanda asked.
“I will show you a part of my name,” the angel said, and Amanda saw and heard a symphony of sound and light. It was just like going to the movie theater, except that the light was brilliant and moved in intricate and exquisitely beautiful patterns. Every time the light changed ever so slightly, she heard a different sound. She could distinguish millions of different notes and colors. Together, the light and the sound told a wonderful story about a magnificent being who had lots of adventures.
“Wow!” she said, “That’s a lot better than when my dad reads to me at night.”
The angel smiled again. “Why don’t you call me Queche,” she said. “That’s the closest sound in words.”
“OK, Queche,” Amanda said. “I think that’s a pretty name.”
Amanda was silent for a moment. “Are you a girl or a boy?”
“I am neither,” Queche replied. “Or maybe I should say, I am both.”
“I don’t understand,” Amanda replied. “You’re either a girl or a boy.”
“Only when you are on earth,” the angel replied. “Bodies have sex, but spirits do not.”
“Then why do you look like a girl?”
“I can make myself look like anything I want,” Queche said, turning into a starling and sitting on Amanda’s arm. The little girl squealed with delight.
“I make myself look like a girl so that you will feel comfortable,” Queche said, turning back into a woman.
The little girl thought of something and said, “am I dreaming?”
“Well, Amanda,” Queche said, “dreams are what happens to you when you let go of your body. That’s what your mom did.”
“Mom is dead,” Amanda said matter–of–factly.
“Amanda, people don’t die,” Queche said.
Amanda was silent for a minute, and she cocked her head to one side. “Of course they die,” she said finally. “My dad says so.”
The angel smiled. “Would you like to talk to your mom? She’s right here.”
Amanda folded her arms in front of her and she looked at the angel sternly. “It’s not nice to tease people,” she said firmly.
A burst of multicolored light came forth from the angel’s head, and a sound like a million tinkling bells. Amanda thought it was very beautiful and she forgot to be mad. “What was that?”
“That is how an angel laughs,” Queche said.
“Why were you laughing at me?” Amanda asked.
“You looked so cute and beautiful, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Queche said.
Amanda smiled. “My dad says I look cute when I fold my arms like that,” Amanda replied, her eyes bright. “Sometimes, I use it to get what I want.”
This time the angel laughed even louder, and it was wonderful, Amanda thought. She wished she could laugh just like that.
“Oh, you are well on your way to becoming a breaker of hearts,” Queche said.
Amanda smiled, because her Dad said that too. She cocked her head and peered shyly at the magnificent angel. “You said I might see my mom?” she said, in a small voice.
“Here she is,” Queche said, and turned slightly, raising her arm behind her. There was a bright little path meandering through the meadow, and Amanda saw a figure walking toward them. As the figure got closer, Amanda saw that it was a woman. She wore a robe of light like Queche, except that this robe was brighter, and sparkled with brilliant colors.
“Mom!” Amanda cried, and went running down the path.
Leah took Amanda in her arms and hugged her, just like she did when she was alive! Amanda cried, but she felt very happy inside.
“Mom,” she said, “is it really you?” Amanda saw the little pug nose, the straight black hair and the striking blue eyes. This angel had freckles just like her real mom.
Leah held her at arms length. “Of course sweetheart, it’s me!”
“But…but I don’t understand!”
Leah and Amanda walked a little further until they cam to a clump of trees. “Let’s sit down here and I’ll tell you all about it,” Leah said.
“It will be just like when you read to me!” Amanda cried.
“Yes, sweetheart, it will.” Leah replied. Amanda noticed there were no tears of sadness, like when mom got sick. Back then, mom would pick her up and Amanda could feel that something was terribly wrong. Amanda looked closely at her mom, because she was glowing.
“Where is this place?” Amanda asked.
“This is where you go when you dream, or when you die,” Leah explained. She didn’t want to make things too complicated to a 8 year old mind.
“Is this heaven?’ Amanda said.
Leah smiled. “You could call it heaven, yes,” she said. “It’s where people live when they are not on earth.”
“Are you an angel now mommy?” Amanda asked.
“I have always been an angel,” Leah replied. “You are an angel too, Amanda, but right now you are an angel in human form.”
Amanda fell silent for several minutes. What her mom had said made her feel very special, and very excited. She began to remember things. She remembered a beautiful temple with white marble columns open to the sky, and people all around her in white robes talking and playing games. They were all her friends, she knew, but she didn’t know their names. There were animals everywhere, and birds, and insects that flew among the gardens. She remembered a big leopard who rubbed himself against her like a cat, and purred. Amanda felt she should be able to remember everything, but she couldn’t.
“Why can’t I remember?” she asked.
Leah nodded, and Amanda knew that her mother understood. It was as if she had been able to read her daughter’s mind. “You are human now,“ she said, “Even in your dreams, you cannot recall the fullness of your being.”
Amanda didn’t really understand this, but she felt that it was right. She stood up and grabbed her mother’s hand, leading her back down the path toward Queche, who waited for them in the copse of trees.
Amanda looked from Leah to Queche and back again. “Why are you different from Queche?” Amanda asked.
“Queche has never experienced a physical lifetime,” Leah said.
Amanda looked her question and Leah said, “When you are born, Amanda, a part of you enters the body, and you become a distinct personality, or expression, of the much more magnificent angel that you are,” she said. “And when you die, you re–discover that magnificence.” Amanda noticed that when Leah spoke to her, she just didn’t hear words. She saw pictures, and felt things, and along with that came understanding. It was a wonderful way to communicate, and she wished that she could talk like that to dad and her friends.
Amanda thought she understood what Leah had said. Leah showed her a beach with little pools of water on the shore. When the wave came in, the little pools came together and re–joined the wave. Leah showed her how the sun evaporated the water from the ocean, and how it rose to become clouds, and then rain, which fell back as water into the ocean, completing the cycle.
“Do you see, little one?” Leah said softly. “Human beings are angels just like the waves and the clouds are the ocean. The difference is that when you die, you remember everything that happened to you on earth, and become an even more magnificent version of yourself!”
Amanda was awed. This was so much better than school!
“Every experience a person has on earth generates a new color in your robe of light,” Leah continued. “When you come to earth, you forget who you are and become human. You don’t remember anymore that you are immortal and divine, and you think you can be hurt and killed. When you are human, you make mistakes and feel pain and sadness, and you experience things very poignantly. These experiences make you even more beautiful.”
Amanda gazed from her mothers brilliant, multi–colored robe of light to Queche’s simple blue and silver one. Her lips formed an “O” and her eyes were very bright. “Do you understand, Amanda?” Leah said.
“I think so,” Amanda replied.
Leah smiled. “Do you remember when you were little and you locked yourself in the basement?”
Amanda shuddered at that memory. “Oh!” she cried. “That was so scary, mommy!”
“That’s right, sweetheart,” Leah replied. “And how did you feel when the babysitter let you out?”
“I felt like I was free again,” Amanda said.
“That’s right, Amanda,” Leah said. “It was much different than a normal day, wasn’t it?”
Comprehension dawned in Amanda’s mind. “So earth is like being on one of those scary rides at the Carnivale?” The Carnivale was the local amusement park. Mom and dad had taken her one day and she was amazed and afraid of the big rollercoaster and all of the other rides.
“So what’s it like being an angel?” Amanda asked.
“Well, how do you feel right now, sweetheart?”
Amanda looked all around her at the meadow with it’s pretty trees and wildflowers. She felt the soft rays of the sun on her face, and she sniffed the cool, pleasant breeze. Here were a thousand scents, and somehow she could tell what each one was. It was like being in her mom’s flower garden, except much better. She smelled roses and lavender and tulips, and pine and cedar and a thousand other things, and each of them was wonderful. And then she listened, and on the wind was music. Soft music, but beautiful, like a thousand subtle symphonies all playing together, but somehow she could understand each individual note. Amanda felt very carefree. She did not think of her father’s sadness, or her third grade teacher’s sick dog, or her shiny new shoes that she had scraped the day before at school. Amanda realized that in this place, it was not possible to feel sad. Suddenly she felt a rush of compassion in her heart for everyone and everything.
“O, mom, it’s so wonderful,” she cried. “I want to stay here forever!”
Leah smiled, and to Amanda it seemed that the heavens opened and all of the love in the universe bathed her in its glow. “My child, you have to go back to earth and take care of daddy,” Leah said. “He needs you now.”
“Yes I know,” Amanda replied, “but daddy is a grownup and he thinks he knows better than me.”
Leah laughed. It felt so wonderful to Amanda to know that her mom wasn’t really dead. She looked just like her, except better. She was healthy and alive and Amanda wished she could come back to earth and be her mom again, but she knew somehow that it wasn’t possible.
Leah put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders and looked her right in the eyes. “You see, Amanda, daddy doesn’t understand about angels, or death. He thinks that I am gone forever. He is angry at the doctors and at God and sad about everything else. You have to be strong now and help him, OK?”
Amanda gazed at her mother just like a tiny little kitten might meow to be petted.
“I’ll try, mommy,” she said softly.
Then she woke up.