Monday, August 13, 2012

Beyond what eyes see

            In the good 'ole days, before my daughter joined the terrible twos and abandoned all pliability and sweet smiles, she had a propensity for seeing heavenly things.  Things I couldn’t see, if you know what I mean.
            Scenario 1: On the morning of my miscarriage, I instructed her to lie on the carpet so I could change her diaper.  She giggled and announced,  “I see boy!”
            Since I only have daughters (even our dog is a female) and the only boy in our family (my husband) was at work, I said,  “There’s no boy, silly.”
            She rolled off her back and jumped up quickly.  With arms outstretched, she toddled toward the window, after something invisible and hollered,  “Come here, boy!”
            You come here!” I said, pulling her back into position on the floor.
            She giggled. “I see boy, Mama.”
            “No there isn’t—“ then I wondered if maybe she could see the spirit of the child my heart was breaking over when I found out there was no longer a heartbeat two days ago.  Deep breath.  “Where is the boy?”
            “Ova theh Mama. On window!”
            She and I both looked.  No boy at all.  I got goosebumps; she laughed again.  Her gaze moved from the window, around the room and was transfixed directly above her.  “He’s up theh. On ceiling.”
            I took that as a sign my 12-week old baby was a boy and we named him after St. Peter Claver, the saint on whose feast day it happened. (Down goosebumps, down.) If it turns out to be a girl, well Petra's not too bad of a name, right? Right?
            Scenario 2: For her birthday, the family went to Mass.  My husband recounted what happened when he was holding our toddler in his arms before Communion.
 He pointed to a cross of Jesus. “There’s Jesus,”  he told her.
            She nodded.  “There’s angel.”
Which is strange because there are no statues of angels on that particular Church and I don’t remember showing her a video or picture of one.   My husband asked, baffled. “Where is the angel?”
            She pointed to the tabernacle on the far left side.  “Ova theh.”
            After my husband narrated the incident to me, I decided to test her the following day when we returned to Mass.
            “Do you see Jesus in Church?”  I whispered.
            She nodded and pointed to the cross.
            “Do you see an angel in Church?”
            Her eyes surveyed the Church.  “Yesterday, Mama. I saw angel.”
            Now I know what you’re thinking because I thought it, too: a two year old understanding the concept of ‘yesterday’ is dubious, so I repeated myself with a leading question, “Is there an angel here, right now?”
            “No Mama. Yesterday, I saw angel in Church.”
            She pointed to the tabernacle. 
            I believe she did.
            And you know why I do?  Because I read what a mystic actually saw during Mass and I know there are thousands upon thousands of angels ministering to the Blessed Sacrament.   
            The testimony of Catalina Rivas of Bolivia, approved by her Bishop, is on  I urge you to read it.  It’s incredible and completely changed the way I saw and reverence Mass.  We are in the presence of the Holy of Holies at Eucharist. Beyond what our eyes see lies…”What no eye has seen, no ear has heard, is the very thing God prepares for those who love Him.”
            I haven’t heard of any more “visions” lately.  The only words that out of my toddler's mouth are "No!" and "That's mine!" so I don’t blame saints and angels for not wanting to visit such a feisty tigress.  I’m hoping heaven will perform a miracle and speed up the next eight months so that my little angel will get over her massive temperament swing.
           *Thank you to for reuniting me to this article and helping me find it online.  +AMDG

1 comment:

Gina said...

Wow - sounds like your little one is a blessing, indeed.

How sweet of God to give her the glimpse of her brother before collecting him to Heaven.

And how good of Him to firm up her faith through the angelic visitor so young. Such blessings. I, too, believe she saw with eyes unclouded by arrogance or pride. Bless her, and bless you. <3