Angel dressed like UPS man comes to take this man's dying mother home

This was in 1994 1995 uh my mother was dying and we knew this the doctor had told us that I was up at the nursing home in her room putting up a Christmas tree it's just for Christmas and she must have had a stroke while I was doing this I wasn't paying any attention to her but i' I'd already been told that she was in really poor health and was having his little Min seizures and little strokes and then it was dangerous for her life and could kill her and apparently while I had my back turned she had one cuz I turn around and she's out of it just completely unconscious and I rush over to her and she gripped my hand and then went limp uh when I had old her hand and uh

I realized she was either dead or dying and immediately a person appears in the room just out of thin air and I remember his hand going down and putting his hand on her forehead he looked to be about 50 or somewhere in his 50s little dark hair but starting to Gray and he had on a suit that made him look like a you truck driver you can't make this up it looked like a UPS truck driver dark brown clothes that look like a UPS truck driver that's what he looks like and he disappeared first he appears and seconds later he disappears. 

Of course I think I'm going insane I'm crazy I start crying and I think I've lost my mind while I was crying and thinking I'd gone insane and I was seeing things and my mother's uh health problems were causing all this. The room lit up afterwards and his shadow appeared on the wall right where he was standing next to my mother then it disappeared again. I rush out we call the hospital

''Didn't he tell you something ?'' 

Yes inside my mind uh I heard my father's voice and he'd been dead my mother's husband he'd been dead for many many years U telling me to call my brother my mother was dying and was going to die soon and call my brother. He lived in California so that he could come and be there uh and then another voice a completely different one spoke to me and said this was your mother's guardian angel who's come to guide your mother to heaven so these two different voices spoke to. 

I rush out to the nurses station and we call an ambulance to come get my mother and she lives a little while longer but not much longer she dies shortly there afterwards it's amazing to see a supernatural person appear and then disappear right in front of your eyes and this all happens in a few seconds then voices in your head telling you what's happened and what's going on you actually saw him appear he appeared like a human being just like you it wasn't like you were you were turned away and then you look and he was there you were looking he was right in front of me I was looking right at him he was there a few seconds and then he disappeared and that's when I really thought I was insane. The room seemed to light up and it was a dark cloudy day and the blinds were drawn and it was raining and a shadow appeared right on the wall right behind where he was standing.

The Day We Saw The Angels

A college professor and his wife are amazed to witness a group of angelic figures floating in the air.

It was not Christmas, it was not even wintertime, when the event occurred that for me threw sudden new light on the ancient angel tale. It was a glorious spring morning and we were walking, my wife and I, through the newly budded birches and maples near Ballardvale, Massachusetts. Now I realize that this, like any account of personal experience, is only as valid as the good sense and honesty of the person relating it. What can I say about myself?

That I am a scholar who shuns guesswork and admires scientific investigation? That I have an A.B. from Harvard, an M.A. from Columbia, a Ph.D. from Hartford Theological Seminary? That I have never been subject to hallucinations? That attorneys have solicited my testimony, and I have testified in the courts, regarded by judge and jury as a faithful, reliable witness? All this is true and yet I doubt that any amount of such credentials can influence the belief or disbelief of another. In the long run, each of us must sift what comes to us from others through his own life experience, his view of the universe, his understanding. And so I will simply tell my story.

The little path on which Marion and I walked that morning was spongy to our steps and we held hands with the sheer delight of life as we strolled near a lovely brook. It was May, and because it was the examination reading period for students at Smith College where I was a professor, we were able to get away for a few days to visit Marion’s parents.

We frequently took walks in the country, and we especially loved the spring after a hard New England winter, for it is then that the fields and the woods are radiant and calm yet show new life bursting from the earth. This day we were especially happy and peaceful; we chatted sporadically, with great gaps of satisfying silence between our sentences.  

Then from behind us we heard the murmur of muted voices in the distance, and I said to Marion, “We have company in the woods this morning.” Marion nodded and turned to look. We saw nothing, but the voices were coming nearer—at a faster pace than we were walking—and we knew that the strangers would soon overtake us. Then we perceived that the sounds were not only behind us but above us, and we looked up. How can I describe what we felt? Is it possible to tell of the surge of exaltation that ran through us? Is it possible to record this phenomenon in objective accuracy and yet be credible? For about 10 feet above us, and slightly to our left, was a floating group of glorious, beautiful creatures that glowed with spiritual beauty. We stopped and stared as they passed above us.

There were six of them, young beautiful women dressed in flowing white garments and engaged in earnest conversation If they were aware of our existence they gave no indication of it. Their faces were perfectly clear to us, and one woman, slightly older than the rest, was especially beautiful. Her dark hair was pulled back in what today we would call a ponytail, and although cannot say it was bound at the back of her head, it appeared to be. She was talking intently to a younger spirit whose back was toward us and who looked up into the face of the woman who was talking.

Neither Marion nor I could understand their words although their voices were clearly heard. The sound was somewhat like hearing but being unable to understand a group of people talking outside a house with all the windows and doors shut. They seemed to float past us, and their graceful motion seemed natural—as gentle and peaceful as the morning itself. As they passed, their conversation grew fainter and fainter until it faded out entirely, and we stood transfixed on the spot, still holding hands and still with the vision before our eyes.

It would be an understatement to say that we were astounded. Then we looked at each other, each wondering if the other also had seen. There was a fallen birch tree just there beside the path. We sat down on it and I said, “Marion, what did you see? Tell me exactly, in precise detail. And tell me what you heard.” She knew my intent—to test my own eyes and ears to see if I had been the victim of hallucination or imagination. And her reply was identical in every respect to what my own senses had reported to me.

I have related this story with the same faithfulness and respect for truth and accuracy as I would tell it on the witness stand. But even as I record it I know how incredible it sounds. Perhaps I can claim no more for it than that it has had a deep effect on our own lives. For this experience of almost 30 years ago greatly altered our thinking. Once both Marion and I were somewhat skeptical about the absolute accuracy of the details at the birth of Christ.

The story, as recorded by St. Luke, tells of an angel appearing to shepherds abiding in the field, and after the shepherds had been told of the Birth, suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest (Luke 2:8-14). As a child I accepted the multitude seen by the shepherds as literal heavenly personages. Then I went through a period when I felt that they were merely symbols injected into a fantasy or legend.

Today, after the experience at Ballardvale, Marion and I are no longer skeptical. We believe that in back of that story recorded by St. Luke lies a genuine objective experience told in wonder by those who had the experience. Once, too, we puzzled greatly over the Christian insistence that we have “bodies” other than our normal flesh and blood ones. We were like the doubter of whom St. Paul wrote: But some man will say, How are the dead raised up? and with what body do they come? (I Corinthians 15:35).

In the years since that bright May morning, his answer has rung for us with joyous conviction. There are also celestial bodies, and bodies terrestrial: but the glory of the celestial is one, and the glory of the terrestrial is another…So also is the resurrection of the dead…It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body…And as we have borne the image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly…For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality (I Corinthians 15:40-53).

All of us, I think, hear the angels for a little while at Christmastime. We let the heavenly host come close once in the year. But we reject the very possibility that what the shepherds saw that night 2,000 years ago was part of the reality that presses close every day of our lives.

And yet there is no reason for us to shrink from this knowledge. Since Marion and I began to be aware of the host of heaven all about us, our lives have been filled with a wonderful hope. Phillips Brooks, the great Episcopal bishop, expressed the cause of this hope more beautifully that I can do:

“This is what you are to hold fast to yourself—the sympathy and companionship of the unseen worlds. No doubt it is best for us now that they should be unseen. It cultivates in us that higher perception that we call ‘faith.’ But who can say that the time will not come when, even to those who live here upon earth, the unseen worlds shall no longer be unseen?”

The experience at Ballardvale, added to the convictions of my Christian faith, gives me not only a feeling of assurance about the future, but a sense of adventure toward it too.

Source: https://guideposts.org/angels-and-miracles/angels/the-day-we-saw-the-angels-2/

The Angel with the Golden Staff

Of all the accounts of angelic encounters, the story of Dr. S. Ralph Harlow stands out due to his position as a respected academic and a man of faith who was, by his own admission, skeptical of such direct, supernatural experiences. Dr. Harlow was a professor of Religion and Biblical Literature at Smith College for over three decades and was known for his thoughtful and scholarly approach to Christianity.

The event took place on a cold, dark evening in December 1948 in Northampton, Massachusetts. Dr. Harlow and his wife, Marion, were driving home after attending a Christmas vespers service at the college. Their route took them along a familiar road that ran parallel to the Connecticut River. The night was exceptionally dark, with no moonlight to illuminate the way.

As they drove, Dr. Harlow, who was at the wheel, suddenly felt an overwhelming and inexplicable urge to stop the car. It wasn't a conscious decision but a powerful, non-negotiable compulsion. He slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to an abrupt halt in the middle of the road, much to the surprise of his wife who asked him why he had stopped so suddenly.

Confused by his own actions, Dr. Harlow couldn't provide an immediate answer. At that very moment, a brilliant, golden light flooded the interior of the car, so intense that it was almost blinding. He and his wife turned to look out the driver's side window, and what they saw left them breathless.

Standing beside the car was a majestic figure, a young man of extraordinary beauty and stature. He was robed in a luminous white garment and had large, powerful wings that seemed to shimmer with their own inner light. The being’s face radiated a profound sense of peace and authority. He was not looking at the Harlows, but was staring intently ahead, up the road. In his hand, he held what Dr. Harlow described as a "gleaming, slender, golden staff."

The angelic being then raised the staff and pointed it up the road into the darkness. As he did, the Harlows followed his gaze. There, in the direction the staff was pointing, they saw a terrifying sight. The bridge they were about to cross—a bridge they had safely traversed countless times before—had been washed away by a recent flood. The entire middle section was gone, leaving a gaping chasm over the icy, rushing river below.

Had Dr. Harlow not been compelled to stop the car at that precise moment, they would have plunged into the river in the darkness, almost certainly to their deaths.

The vision of the angel lasted only for a few moments. As quickly as it appeared, the figure and the brilliant light vanished, plunging them back into the disorienting darkness of the night. Shaken but profoundly grateful, Dr. Harlow slowly and carefully backed the car up and found an alternate route home.

Dr. Harlow, the scholar who had often approached biblical stories of angels with a degree of intellectual detachment, was forever changed by the experience. He had no explanation for the event other than a direct, miraculous, and life-saving intervention by a heavenly being. He shared the story publicly, despite the potential risk to his academic reputation, because he felt a deep responsibility to bear witness to what he and his wife had experienced. His testimony is considered particularly credible because of his background, his initial skepticism, and the fact that the experience was shared by his wife, providing a second witness to the extraordinary event.

Source: https://gemini.google.com/app/49b7c9e7d9dd7c4b