Logan's Story
The Little Girl Who Prayed For Wings, Then Became A Guardian Angel
Since the creation of this web site, the statistical information we have gathered from thousand's of viewers prove that many people who have lost someone, not only feel that they have been given a sign that their loved one still exists, but may have also felt as if they were in some strange way guided or, prepared for the death. Almost 40% believe that they or their loved one knew. Though this page shares our own story the ones following contain links to many others sharing theirs. If you go to the home page you can take a survey and view the statistics we have collected. A week before our daughter's tragic accident, I remember standing in our living room when out of the blue, she proudly announced that she was going to be an angel. No one else was around, and we were not talking about anything. In fact, I was quietly dusting when she sought me out. "I be an angel," "An angel?" I asked. "Huh Hun, an ardian angel." "Oh a guardian angel.” Half-laughing I corrected her with my emphasis on the letter G. In a matter of fact and rather serious tone, she said, "Nues." (her word for yes) Glancing down towards the floor, she appeared somewhat ashamed and yet, relieved at the same time. Shrugging her shoulder, she walked out of the room with nothing more to say. I remember thinking at the time how could she have known guardian. Why not just angel? She was only three. Are most three-year-olds this specific? I assumed that she must have picked it up somewhere. My friend Rachel’s story of how her little girl knew and had tried to warn her by drawing a picture of herself with a boo-boo and speaking of becoming an angel the day of her own death, came rushing back from memory. Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach. The night before our child’s fatality, I chose to read her baby book to her. Although I had never done this before, I wanted and needed to tell her how much I appreciated the gift of her life. I had a powerful, unexplainable desire to let her know how special she truly was to me. Even before she died, I knew something was different. Just hours before her death, I distinctly remember watching her eat lunch with so much enthusiasm. As I stood there observing her, I remember thinking, "Something is different about this child, but what is it? I can't quite put my finger on it, but there is definitely something unique.” Accompanying that feeling was another that had started weeks before, that something was about to happen to our family. I was trying to take extra care and caution with everything. I made sure the kids were tightly buckled into their seat belts. I tried to keep a watchful open. I even took extra time at stop signs. Looking back, I have to wonder if I somehow knew. I am not sure that it was because I was using the physical part of my brain, or maybe the spiritual one. Tinkerbell One of my favorite memories as a little girl was our trip to Disney’s Magic Kingdom. I would get goose bumps watching the Electric Parade travel down Main Street, USA. When Tinkerbell flew across the park, with fireworks engrossing the dark starry sky behind her, I realized right then and there what it meant to be a child. I wanted my children to experience the very same magical memories. Unfortunately, I never got a chance to do this with our daughter Logan. Years later, we decided to take our other children to Disney’s Magic Kingdom in Orlando, Florida. I must admit, that I held up well until the Electric Parade started down Main Street, USA. Our entire vacation’s goal was for this moment. I completely fell apart. I was so torn up inside wanting our little girl who died to see and experience this for herself, that I could no longer fight the pain. It took over with so much immensity, that I couldn't even see the parade through the tears that were now falling like rain drops to my feet. I was trying very hard to keep my sobbing under control and not ruin this moment for the children with my crying. Through the uncontrolled tears I thought, "Oh, how she should be here to see this. How could life deny her this? Logan, Mommy is so sorry you missed this one." This truly has to be one of the most bittersweet moments that I will ever know in my lifetime. Imagine my surprise when viewing the pictures developed from our vacation from a disposable camera we had purchased there in the park. Is it just an image? Could it be just a flaw in the film? My family does not remember anything visible in the air and it was a beautiful, clear, night. I suppose anyone could say anything about this developed picture. However, had this image shown up on any other picture, it would not mean as much. Nevertheless, because I know exactly what was going through my thoughts at the exact moment it was taken, and how predominate they were, I'll thank God and Logan yet again for another Sign from Heaven. The more accepting you are of these gifts, the more likely you are to receive them. Wishing and hoping for miracles does not make them happen. They are almost always spontaneous. If a bereaved person could make them happen at will, you'd receive signs from your loved ones every hour of every day for at least the first year in mourning. While Christ performed miracle after miracle, people wouldn't believe. "Show me more," it was never enough. I am choosing to separate myself from this group of people. I've seen, I believe, and am finding comfort and everlasting peace.
A week before our daughter's tragic accident, I remember standing in our living room when out of the blue, she proudly announced that she was going to be an angel. No one else was around, and we were not talking about anything. In fact, I was quietly dusting when she sought me out. "I be an angel," "An angel?" I asked. "Huh Hun, an ardian angel." "Oh a guardian angel.” Half-laughing I corrected her with my emphasis on the letter G. In a matter of fact and rather serious tone, she said, "Nues." (her word for yes) Glancing down towards the floor, she appeared somewhat ashamed and yet, relieved at the same time. Shrugging her shoulder, she walked out of the room with nothing more to say. I remember thinking at the time how could she have known guardian. Why not just angel? She was only three. Are most three-year-olds this specific? I assumed that she must have picked it up somewhere. My friend Rachel’s story of how her little girl knew and had tried to warn her by drawing a picture of herself with a boo-boo and speaking of becoming an angel the day of her own death, came rushing back from memory. Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach. The night before our child’s fatality, I chose to read her baby book to her. Although I had never done this before, I wanted and needed to tell her how much I appreciated the gift of her life. I had a powerful, unexplainable desire to let her know how special she truly was to me. Even before she died, I knew something was different. Just hours before her death, I distinctly remember watching her eat lunch with so much enthusiasm. As I stood there observing her, I remember thinking, "Something is different about this child, but what is it? I can't quite put my finger on it, but there is definitely something unique.” Accompanying that feeling was another that had started weeks before, that something was about to happen to our family. I was trying to take extra care and caution with everything. I made sure the kids were tightly buckled into their seat belts. I tried to keep a watchful open. I even took extra time at stop signs. Looking back, I have to wonder if I somehow knew. I am not sure that it was because I was using the physical part of my brain, or maybe the spiritual one. Tinkerbell One of my favorite memories as a little girl was our trip to Disney’s Magic Kingdom. I would get goose bumps watching the Electric Parade travel down Main Street, USA. When Tinkerbell flew across the park, with fireworks engrossing the dark starry sky behind her, I realized right then and there what it meant to be a child. I wanted my children to experience the very same magical memories. Unfortunately, I never got a chance to do this with our daughter Logan. Years later, we decided to take our other children to Disney’s Magic Kingdom in Orlando, Florida. I must admit, that I held up well until the Electric Parade started down Main Street, USA. Our entire vacation’s goal was for this moment. I completely fell apart. I was so torn up inside wanting our little girl who died to see and experience this for herself, that I could no longer fight the pain. It took over with so much immensity, that I couldn't even see the parade through the tears that were now falling like rain drops to my feet. I was trying very hard to keep my sobbing under control and not ruin this moment for the children with my crying. Through the uncontrolled tears I thought, "Oh, how she should be here to see this. How could life deny her this? Logan, Mommy is so sorry you missed this one." This truly has to be one of the most bittersweet moments that I will ever know in my lifetime. Imagine my surprise when viewing the pictures developed from our vacation from a disposable camera we had purchased there in the park. Is it just an image? Could it be just a flaw in the film? My family does not remember anything visible in the air and it was a beautiful, clear, night. I suppose anyone could say anything about this developed picture. However, had this image shown up on any other picture, it would not mean as much. Nevertheless, because I know exactly what was going through my thoughts at the exact moment it was taken, and how predominate they were, I'll thank God and Logan yet again for another Sign from Heaven. The more accepting you are of these gifts, the more likely you are to receive them. Wishing and hoping for miracles does not make them happen. They are almost always spontaneous. If a bereaved person could make them happen at will, you'd receive signs from your loved ones every hour of every day for at least the first year in mourning. While Christ performed miracle after miracle, people wouldn't believe. "Show me more," it was never enough. I am choosing to separate myself from this group of people. I've seen, I believe, and am finding comfort and everlasting peace.
Tinkerbell One of my favorite memories as a little girl was our trip to Disney’s Magic Kingdom. I would get goose bumps watching the Electric Parade travel down Main Street, USA. When Tinkerbell flew across the park, with fireworks engrossing the dark starry sky behind her, I realized right then and there what it meant to be a child. I wanted my children to experience the very same magical memories. Unfortunately, I never got a chance to do this with our daughter Logan. Years later, we decided to take our other children to Disney’s Magic Kingdom in Orlando, Florida. I must admit, that I held up well until the Electric Parade started down Main Street, USA. Our entire vacation’s goal was for this moment. I completely fell apart. I was so torn up inside wanting our little girl who died to see and experience this for herself, that I could no longer fight the pain. It took over with so much immensity, that I couldn't even see the parade through the tears that were now falling like rain drops to my feet. I was trying very hard to keep my sobbing under control and not ruin this moment for the children with my crying. Through the uncontrolled tears I thought, "Oh, how she should be here to see this. How could life deny her this? Logan, Mommy is so sorry you missed this one." This truly has to be one of the most bittersweet moments that I will ever know in my lifetime. Imagine my surprise when viewing the pictures developed from our vacation from a disposable camera we had purchased there in the park.
When Tinkerbell flew across the park, with fireworks engrossing the dark starry sky behind her, I realized right then and there what it meant to be a child. I wanted my children to experience the very same magical memories. Unfortunately, I never got a chance to do this with our daughter Logan. Years later, we decided to take our other children to Disney’s Magic Kingdom in Orlando, Florida. I must admit, that I held up well until the Electric Parade started down Main Street, USA. Our entire vacation’s goal was for this moment. I completely fell apart. I was so torn up inside wanting our little girl who died to see and experience this for herself, that I could no longer fight the pain. It took over with so much immensity, that I couldn't even see the parade through the tears that were now falling like rain drops to my feet. I was trying very hard to keep my sobbing under control and not ruin this moment for the children with my crying. Through the uncontrolled tears I thought, "Oh, how she should be here to see this. How could life deny her this? Logan, Mommy is so sorry you missed this one." This truly has to be one of the most bittersweet moments that I will ever know in my lifetime. Imagine my surprise when viewing the pictures developed from our vacation from a disposable camera we had purchased there in the park.
Is it just an image? Could it be just a flaw in the film? My family does not remember anything visible in the air and it was a beautiful, clear, night. I suppose anyone could say anything about this developed picture. However, had this image shown up on any other picture, it would not mean as much. Nevertheless, because I know exactly what was going through my thoughts at the exact moment it was taken, and how predominate they were, I'll thank God and Logan yet again for another Sign from Heaven. The more accepting you are of these gifts, the more likely you are to receive them. Wishing and hoping for miracles does not make them happen. They are almost always spontaneous. If a bereaved person could make them happen at will, you'd receive signs from your loved ones every hour of every day for at least the first year in mourning. While Christ performed miracle after miracle, people wouldn't believe. "Show me more," it was never enough. I am choosing to separate myself from this group of people. I've seen, I believe, and am finding comfort and everlasting peace.
The more accepting you are of these gifts, the more likely you are to receive them. Wishing and hoping for miracles does not make them happen. They are almost always spontaneous. If a bereaved person could make them happen at will, you'd receive signs from your loved ones every hour of every day for at least the first year in mourning. While Christ performed miracle after miracle, people wouldn't believe. "Show me more," it was never enough. I am choosing to separate myself from this group of people. I've seen, I believe, and am finding comfort and everlasting peace.
The following is a lullaby I made for Logan when she was about a month old. is for lovely, lovely as can be is for on top of Mommy's heart is she is for giving us all of her love is for Angel, sent from up above is for never wanting to part WHY? Because Logan's the queen of Mommy's heart! WHY? Because Logan's the queen of Daddy's heart! WHY? Because Logan's the queen of Jordan's heart!
A month after her accident and feeling quite low, I felt the need to really listen to the song she had sang so often. I could keep hearing the melody but didn't know the words. I had goose bumps when I realized the lyrics recited.
Let me be your wings Let me take you far beyond the stars. Let me be your wings Let me lift you high above Everything you're dreaming of will soon be ours. Anything that you desire, anything at all, Everyday I'll take you higher and I'll never let you fall. Let me be your wings, Leave behind the world you know, For another world of wondrous things. We'll see the universe and dance on Saturn's rings. Heaven isn't too far. Fly with me and I will be your wings. Written by: Barry Manilow
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