I remember being in a beautiful garden with huge flowers and big colorful butterflies. Someone in all white escorted me to this place, and there were other children there. I remember running and playing with them and nobody seemed to be different because the love was so strong. What captured my attention is someone calling my name. The more I heard it, the stronger it became familiar to me. It was my mother’s voice and I was always taught to obey my parents. That is exactly what I did. The person who was watching me walked across the bridge and said goodbye to me. I was too young to understand what had happened and didn’t think much about it until years later.

My mother told me when she woke up that morning, she came in the room to check on me and she noticed I didn’t respond. She also told me that my pupils had dilated and by her being a nurse, she knew I was in trouble. She took me to the emergency room; the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong so I figured it must have been ordered by God. The knowledge I gained was used years later when my mother was in a coma, dying from a major heart attack. I told my father and family members to keep calling her name even though she was brain dead and remained in a coma for five weeks. The doctors told us to let her go but by my experience, I knew she could hear us no matter how long she was in that coma. One day my father called her name and she answered. We were all excited and the doctors didn’t understand; her test was still showing she was brain dead. Hope this story helps someone.