Angels in My Hair

by Lorna Byrne

  Back in the hospital, I was on a drip and not allowed out of bed. The doctors couldn't understand why I kept going into premature labour. I spent the remaining months of the pregnancy in hospital. During the week before Christmas, when I was seven months pregnant, the wards were emptying and everyone was being sent home who could be. It didn't look like they were going to let me go home, but I kept praying to God that I could go so I could be with Christopher and Joe for Christmas. Christmas Eve came and, just before lunch, one of the doctors came over to my bed and told me I could go home for two or three days, on the condition that I came straight back if I felt unwell.

  That evening Da drove Joe and Christopher to the hospital to collect me, and I was feeling great. When we arrived at the cottage it looked so homely: Elizabeth, our wonderful neighbour, had kept the fire going. Before Da left he told us that we were invited for dinner on St Stephen's Day and that he would collect us at about twelve. Christopher went out with his father to close the gates as his granddad drove away, and when they came back in I was sitting comfortably by the fire. Christopher sat on my knee and I gave him a big hug while Joe made us tea. I really don't remember much about that particular Christmas, nor do I know how Joe managed. I only remember that Christmas Eve as I hugged Christopher by the fire and then being at my mother's on St Stephen's Day, saying I wasn't feeling too good and asking Da to take me back to the hospital.

  He did and, two weeks later, as I was going into the eighth month of pregnancy, my second son, Owen, was born. Believe it or not, he weighed almost eight pounds – despite being four weeks premature.

  I don't know how Mum and Da became involved in prayer groups, but they did and they seemed to have a great effect on my da. He started to help people. He always had done, but now he helped people even more than before. If he heard anyone was in trouble, he would do what he could to help.

  One particular evening, Da came up to the cottage and asked us if we would like to come to the prayer group down in Maynooth College that evening.

  I looked at Joe and we both nodded. I was thrilled at an opportunity to get out of the house, and I was also fascinated at the prospect of praying in a group. I have always loved churches and I went to mass whenever I could.

  'What are these prayer groups like?' I asked.

  'We have the use of a room in the grounds of Maynooth College,' Dad replied. 'We pray together and read passages from the Bible, then we can ask the group to say a prayer for our own families or for someone else who's in trouble. After the prayer meeting we usually have tea and biscuits and a chat and socialise with each other.'

  'And make new friends,' I said.

  Elizabeth said she would babysit for us, and from that day on, Elizabeth babysat for us every time we went to the prayer meeting.

  I loved that first prayer group, even though I was extremely nervous. Being honest, I was so nervous that I remember little of it. We did, however, become regulars and we tried to go as often as possible.

  Prayer is extremely powerful: when we pray, we don't pray alone, our guardian angel always prays with us and so do any other angels that may be with us at that time. Even loved ones who are already in Heaven join with us when we pray.

  Nothing is too small or trivial to pray for, and no prayer is too short – whether it is just one word or many words. We can pray anywhere: driving in our cars, when out walking, during a meeting, in a crowd or on our own. Sometimes we pray without even realising we are doing it, especially when we are thinking of a loved one who is sick or a friend with difficulties. When a prayer comes from the depths of our being it is incredibly powerful, and a person's religion or creed doesn't come into it: God hears the prayers of all his children equally.

  Prayer is especially powerful when a group of people pray together in the same place, as we did in the prayer group, or if people from all over the world pray for something specific at the same time. Such prayer causes a tremendous intensification of spiritual power.

  We always enjoyed the walk down to the prayer group; Joe would talk about different things that were happening in his job at the County Council and we would also talk about the prayer group. One Wednesday, as we were walking down to the meeting, I was talking to Joe about my hope that it would be a big group that evening – it was usually about ten people and sometimes, especially in the summer, it was even smaller. When holiday time was over, the prayer group would start to grow in numbers and sometimes, because of this, it would be moved from one end of the campus to the other.

  Da went to a lot of prayer groups, but he had only been to a few in Maynooth. He had brought us to our first one but he hadn't been often since, so this evening I was delighted to see him and hurried over to say hello. We walked up the steps together and through the door and into one of the rooms on the left. There were some people there and about twenty chairs in a circle.We said hello and sat down. Almost all of the chairs were full. I said to Joe, 'This is great.'

  More people then came in, followed by a priest who introduced himself as Father David; he then asked whether the group minded if some clerical students and nuns joined the prayer group that evening.We all said in chorus that they were welcome. As there were already about twenty lay people in the room, he suggested we find a bigger room. Within minutes he was back, saying we had a bigger room in a part that wasn't directly attached to the college and we should bring the chairs – including the ones stacked against the wall. Everyone got up to help.

  The next room was a lot bigger than the room we had been in previously. Soon, a lot of young clerics (young men who were studying to become priests) started to arrive, together with some priests – maybe about seven of them. Some nuns arrived, too, along with a young girl who was staying in the nuns' house on the campus. More lay people also arrived.

  The room seemed to become very vibrant and full of light. I could see a lot of angels, although not very clearly, and I could feel the excitement inside myself. My soul was jumping with joy. My angels were whispering in my ear that someone very special was coming. 'I know,' I said, 'I know who's coming.' I wanted to jump for joy and tell everybody, but the angels stuck my feet to the ground so I could not move. 'No,' they said, 'they would not believe you.'

  I was standing to the right, inside the door, with my feet fast to the floor, watching the chairs. The chairs were arranged in concentric circles and as the group kept getting bigger and bigger the chairs kept being moved around. I could see the original idea of circles of chairs was now out of the question, and instead an oval shape was being formed, with five or six ovals of chairs starting from the centre and getting bigger by the minute. People were still coming in carrying chairs.

  Joe called to me to come and sit down beside him. There were now six complete oval-shaped rows of seats around this large room. The angels released my feet so I could move. I could see the empty chair beside Joe, but to find my way in was a problem. Some people got up off their chairs and moved them back so that I could get through and eventually I got to my seat and sat down beside Joe.

  John, one of the lay people, welcomed everyone to the prayer meeting. Then everyone started to praise God out loud, in their own individual words. (People prayed in the way they felt like, in the way that was meaningful to them.) The atmosphere became highly vibrant and electric, and with the beating of the angels' wings, the light was also becoming radiant. I was enjoying praising God with my whole heart and soul, I wanted to close my eyes, but the angels said no. As they shaded my eyes I could also feel angels' hands under my chin, holding my head up. I was starting to go into ecstasy. I could see everyone around me had their heads bowed; they were all in prayer and giving praise. In front, behind and at both sides of each person, angels glimmered. The room was enveloped in angels from the floor to the ceiling – I do not think there was any space that was not filled by an angel.

  Then one angel whispered in my ear. 'Listen to everyone, Lorna.'

  I listened and it was unbelievable. I could hear everyone individually
: some were praying in tongues, others were repeating prayers over and over again, and some were singing hymns and praising God from the depths of their being; from their souls.

  Slowly, the angels allowed my head to bow a little and I could no longer feel the chair underneath me. I asked the angels not to let me close my eyes as I gave praise and thanks to God. The angels whispered in my ear that they would close my eyes only a little. Then the room grew silent. The angels fell silent.

  A cloud of brilliant white light, alive with life, was gradually engulfing the room, surrounding everything and everyone, purifying and cleansing everyone and everything in its path. Gradually, from the cloud in the centre of us, God as a young man materialised and became visible; I recognised the very powerful presence as the one I had encountered that day as a child in Mountshannon, as I walked to my granny's house.

  The young man – God – stood there, dressed in a white robe. I could see the tip of His toes: they had a golden appearance. His arms were down by His sides, His hands were opened, pointing downwards, and there were beams of light coming from them, with a gold radiance from His fingers. His face shone and His eyes were bright in colour, radiating the eternity of life. His hair came down to His shoulders and was curly and bronze in colour. But how can I hope to describe a brilliant radiant light – all life itself – full of love, compassion and hope?

  God turned slowly to face everyone and, without movement, as we know movement, God moved among the people sitting in the inner oval circle. The people were giving praise and thanking God in silence, in meditation, in prayer, oblivious to Him. As God was moving among the people sitting behind me I could feel Him; His presence was extremely powerful. I was filled with the peace that dwells in God. My prayer was this: if only God could stay and walk among us like this all of the time.

  When I was finished my prayer, I felt the touch of His hand on my shoulder. God touched my soul physically in this radiant light. How can I describe what my soul saw? Purity, in all infinity; clarity in full.

  Then in a flash of light God was gone and the room was normal again. My eyes were fully open and I saw that the cloud of beautiful radiant life – the radiance of God's presence walking among us – was gone. I smiled with tears in my eyes.

  A moment or two later, everyone stopped praying and lifted up their heads. Someone spoke and said that it filled them with unbelievable joy and peace to pray and meditate in a big group. Then, a young priest (I don't know whether he was a priest yet, he might have been a clerical student) spoke. He had light brown hair, was not very tall and had a bit of a beard or something – or maybe he was unshaven? I'm not quite sure. He sat in a chair in the centre circle.

  'Did anyone feel it?' he asked.

  I knew exactly what he was going to say and I asked the angels, 'Can I say it as well, that I felt it too – so that it would help him?' But they said no.

  'I felt God walk among us,' he said, 'And I felt him touch me. Did he touch anyone else?'

  I so much wanted to say, 'Yes, he did, he touched me too,' but I was told no, that I was to be quiet. And the sad thing was that no one else had the courage to say 'yes, God touched me,' to have the courage to acknowledge God. God had actually touched them! We are so afraid to say that God is in our lives; we are so afraid to acknowledge God openly, to speak openly.

  I don't know who the other people were who God touched, but I do remember that young man and, even to this day, I hope that whatever he is doing, he keeps on acknowledging that beautiful thing.

  When the prayer meeting was over we had the usual tea and biscuits. When everyone else was having tea, I slipped outside to the car park with my drink in my hand. I went over and walked between some small trees – I was still shaking with excitement – and angels walked around the trees with me.

  'I know that young man desperately wanted acknowledgement,' I said to the many angels around me, not talking to any one angel in particular. I asked the angels and the young man's guardian angel to help him to keep his faith, his belief in God, regardless of whether he became a priest or not. I asked them, 'What if I share with Joe about God walking among us and touching some of us?'

  'No, Lorna, that would be too much for Joe to understand,' the angels replied. 'A time will come when you will share more with Joe but, you must remember, not everything. This is one of the things you will never share with him.'

  I felt a little sad. As I walked back towards the entrance, the Angel Elisha appeared and held the door open for me, smiling, 'Don't be sad,' she said, and, as she said that, my sadness left me.

  I met Da in the corridor and he said he was ready to go. I said I would find Joe and meet him at the car. We were home in a few minutes and neither Da nor Joe said anything particular about the prayer meeting, so I believe that they saw nothing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The tunnel

  By the time we had been living in the cottage for four years, the garden was in good shape. We were growing plenty of vegetables and we had some hens – the only difficulty was finding where the hens had laid the eggs! Eventually, we fenced off the part of the garden with the big shed and used it as a henhouse, and after that it was no problem. Joe also built a long clothesline for all the washing; I can still remember the day he made it – he on a step ladder using a sledgehammer and me holding the pole. We laughed so much.

  One afternoon, Christopher and Owen made a tent from poles, a blanket and some string and were having great fun playing in it while I was down the garden hanging out the washing. Suddenly a big beam of light landed in front of my feet and hit me like a little slap – and I nearly fell over. It was Angel Hosus, of course! I laughed, knowing Hosus was doing this for fun.

  'Lorna, I have something to tell you.' He said, 'It will be happy and sad. God is sending you a little baby soul. You will become pregnant in the New Year, but this little baby will not stay: it will return to God.'

  'I am sad already,' I said. 'Why are you telling me this, Angel Hosus? Why don't you just let it happen and say nothing? It would be easier for me not to know.'

  'Joe will be delighted you are pregnant, Lorna,' Hosus said, 'and when this little baby goes back to God, Joe will share in this in a little way that will help him understand your gifts.'

  'Do you think he'll understand?' I asked.

  'Yes, he will,' answered Hosus. 'He'll understand – he'll find it a bit unbelievable in some ways but, as time goes on, he'll know that it's all true because of other things that will happen in your lives. It's now time for you to talk to Joe again.'

  'Okay, I will,' I said. 'Maybe when I go for a walk with him later.'

  The children were still playing in their tent and running around in the front part of the garden when Joe came home from work that evening. He opened the gate. Christopher and Owen ran to him and he picked them both up in his arms and carried them into the cottage. Later that evening, I asked Elizabeth to mind the children while Joe and I went for a little walk.

  As we walked down by the canal, we talked about all kinds of things and I said, 'I have something I'd like to share with you. Something that the angels show me.'

  I explained to Joe a little about the energy I see around plants as we passed wild flowers growing along the bank of the canal.

  'Hold my hand, and maybe the angels will help you to see the energy around these flowers,' I said as I held his hand tightly. 'Look at that flower there, do you see the way balls of energy are coming out of it? The flower is throwing off its own energy. Can you see the different colours – yellow, white and blue?'

  I turned, still holding Joe's hand and still asking the angels to let him see.

  'Look at that red poppy. Can you see the spirals shooting up from the base of the plant about a foot into the air? They're like fireworks exploding, one following another, only lasting for a few seconds.'

  Joe looked, but it was obvious from the expression on his face that he could see nothing, and that he even doubted as to whether there was anything to see. My
heart sank.

  'Come on,' said Joe, 'let's go home.'

  Suddenly, angels appeared as if they had come out of the air above the canal. The angels blew gently in the direction of the flowers. Joe started to walk away. I grabbed his hand and said, 'Look at the breeze blowing the flowers. Can you see now, Joe?'

  He stood in amazement, as if he was glued to the ground, and said, 'I've never seen anything like that before.'

  He described for me what he was seeing. I smiled happily. This was the first time I had ever been given confirmation that others saw the same things I did.

  Joe stood smiling at me in wonder. 'Some things are hard to believe but I know I shouldn't doubt you.'

  He turned and looked again and, seeing that the energy around the flowers had disappeared, he was a little disappointed.

  'I never understand it myself,' I said to Joe. 'It is almost as if the energy turns on and off, only to be seen physically with the human eye at certain times.'

  We strolled contentedly home, hand in hand. Joe and I put the children to bed and later that evening we sat and talked. Joe asked me a lot of questions, and some I could not give answer to.

  As time went on, Da became involved with different prayer groups in Dublin and around where he lived, including the 'born-again Christians'. Occasionally, when the children and I would be up visiting my parents, we arrived as a visitor from the prayer group was leaving. One particular day, just as we reached the gate of my parents' house, the hall door opened and a man stepped out.

  He looked at us and then turned to Mum and asked, 'Who is this?'

  Mum replied that I was her daughter and these were her grandchildren. He suggested to Mum that she bring us along to the prayer group one Sunday. I said hello but kept walking with the children around to the back of the house. I asked Mum who the man was. She told me he was one of the preachers from the born-again Christian prayer group in Dublin. I didn't ask any more questions, and Mum didn't give any more information.