Birth of an angel: chapter 7

This is chapter 7 of a book that Manuel de leon wrote about his son Carlo and gives away for free to those he comes across in the Philippines, he has given us permission to reprint his story on MindBodySmile.com and we will publish weekly installments here.

Chapter 7: Angel at the Wake

On the second day of the wake the following morning, Tuesday, June 5, I was sitting beside the casket, feeling low and depressed. I was experiencing another moment of sadness that would be among many episodes of forthcoming sorrows. How would I or his mother be able to cope and go through all of these mourning?

But we must endure up to the end of the vigil when he would finally leave the house. We expected sorrow at every event—at the last mass and blessing he would receive in church; at the trip to the cemetery; during the final viewing; during the lowering of the casket; and when the vault would be covered with soil. Finally we would leave him out there alone by himself. And after his interment and burial, what about the ensuing days, weeks, and months?

For almost a thousand days of his sickness we became so close, we felt his love, his warmth, his smell, his smiles, his voice, his bravery, his courage, his patience, his perseverance, his optimism, his assuring and comforting faith. All of these would now be gone. We needed a strong hand to carry us through the agonizing days to come. I was hoping that I could steel my self during those last moments when I could still see and feel his body. If I could only die with my son, that would be great liberation for me. I was determined not to come back and wake up in the reality I was in.

More friends and relatives arrived. Visitors asked me about the date of the interment It would be on Thursday, June 07, at 10.00 am.

It occurred to me that I had to arrange for the place of interment if we would bury him on Thursday. I had three choices for the site: the Manila Memorial Park where my father was interred, Arlington Memorial Park, and Loyola Memorial Park which are both near our home. But none of them seemed acceptable.

Yet all this time my son was communicating with me and helping me decide in the absence of any preparations for this event. Another surge of energy brought me back on my feet. I knew where it was coming from. It was the same strength I experienced at the hospital which enabled me to process our discharge and bring his body home. Lifting me up, it was the same spirit that helped me choose his coffin in the funeral house.

I tried to listen with my heart for what my son was telling me. A few minutes later I remembered the memorial park somewhere in Taytay, Rizal. I passed by the said park several times when going to a small lot I owned in the nearby subdivision. I had intended to build a small house on that lot for him, his mom, and all his unmarried brothers. Then I dropped that plan when Carlo was hospitalized.

I asked Carlo’s elder brother John Patrick to drive me so we could look around the memorial park. We reached the place after sometime. On the gate there was a big sign—MOUNT ZION MEMORIAL PARK. Passing by the guard house I felt so much bliss and my heart was jumping with joy. A beautiful spark of light seemed to illuminate the area. There was so much calm and serenity while we drove around the cemented road and appreciated its beauty.

Then we proceeded to the sales office building, where I met a man at the door who invited me inside the office. He showed me the map where the available lots were marked. I chose Lot J-177, which was a good number. The man led us to the location and it was in an excellent area of the park. The price was expensive and good for four bodies.

Joshua, the boy who found the candle image

I was stunned by the cost because I held no such amount of money. I promised to be back and sadly drove out of the memorial park. I knew that I made a hollow promise for my credit cards were already charged with hospital bills and I was up to my neck with personal loans.

We passed by the other memorial park across the road, but as we entered the gate, my stomach began acting up; it seemed as if I was having a terrible attack of ulcer or incontinence—I did not really know. When we were inside the cemetery, a cloud of darkness covered the area and it was suddenly a very lonely place. We circled around once and got out immediately.

There was another memorial park up on the mountains which we could see from the rest house of my sister Carina, so we drove toward that direction. I was sure that the price there was affordable; it was bigger and newly opened. While we were going up, not only was my stom-ach giving me trouble, but the car seemed to be complaining also as we twisted and turned upwards, in spite of the fact that it had a recent oil and air filter change.

I knew that Carlo was communicating to me where he wanted to be laid to rest. I told my son Patrick to turn around, head for home and we would by all means get that lot in Mount Zion. Everything went back to normal when I said that. Even the irritation I felt in my stomach suddenly disappeared.

On the drive back home I pondered my options. How could I raise the money for the lot? It was too late to sell what I could sell. I had money coming from my business partners in Dipolog City. The goodhearted couple, Erning and Medy, had been helping me throughout my ordeal and they were very kind to spare time for me to be with my son. But this money was not yet coming until a few weeks later. Besides, I did not know how much they would give me for they were also in a tight financial situation. .

My elder sister Carina would lend me some money; she and her husband Manuel were with me all the way. If worse comes to worst I would approach some of the people I had worked with in the past, hoping that they would come to my rescue. I was so engrossed in my own thoughts that I didn’t realize that I was back at home already. We got out of the car and proceeded inside.

Inside, there was a commotion. I heard people saying, “Angel….” Angel…..” “Angel……” I thought at first that there was something under the casket.

My son Patrick wedged himself into the group of children as I followed closely behind. Then I set my eyes on the plastic container on top of the coffin. It contained the dripping of the glowing candle, and the dripping was shaped like an angel.

I took a closer look at the image and all ill and sad emotions left me.
I was awed and amazed, realizing that all these time, in all my despairing tasks from the hospital to the morgue, to the funeral parlor, to the memorial park, my son was with me. Or if it was not him it could have been an angel providing us with assurance and strength. I remembered our pact: “Promise me dad, wherever I go, you will come with me. Wherever you go, I will be with you. Walang iwanan ha?”

After that afternoon when I looked at that angel image and in the many days that followed the atmosphere of the entire wake changed. We placed the angel image in a plastic container and cushioned it with fresh leaf. Then we put it on the glass on top of the coffin. All who viewed my son’s remains did not miss the figure. All were one in saying that it was an angel. Some said we must rejoice because this image assured us that my son became an angel.

My son did not become an angel, for the angels were created before the earth was and all the things in it, including mankind. Angels are servants of God; they are the messengers and the fingers of God; on the other hand, we do not become angels, we are heirs to His kingdom when we die in His grace.

Then what did the image represent? In the many hours I spent looking at the image I tried to decipher its meaning, in the same way that I tried to unlock the meaning of those series of numbers my son uttered before he died. He died, as young as he was, with a clean and uncorrupted spirit. His death brought forth this unusual sign of the angel. It was something holy, and a manifestation of this sort was shown by the blessed to the unholy.

This image was for me. It was a form of guidance; since I lived my life not in accordance with the will of God. I lived in sin—conducted my life, my thoughts, my deeds, in sinful ways. I planned selfishly. Few men could ever avoid and evade the strong urge to gain at the expense of another, especially in the world of business.

The tracing of the image

I believe that the candle image had a deeper meaning, for without it, how could I accept that after all our prayers, all the pains and sufferings of my son, all that he and I endured in faith, everything just went to
nothing. The image came about without delay, long before the first candle
was entirely spent. God for sure would not settle for Carlo alone lest He
lose the faithful to unbelief because of grief. He sent at once His angel
to win us back. God in this case broke the protocol of the separation
between the mortal and the divine; He washed the wake of my son with
mysticism.

It was a clear reminder that there is God and He loves us so much
and He wants us to be saved. Alone by our selves we can not do that
unless we bring God into our lives, into our hearts and into our minds.
We must surrender to Him, come to Him with clean spirits before He
can take us by our hands and guide us to the door of His kingdom. We     must acquire a strong faith, a solid faith similar to that of a child believing in the true existence of God. This is the very purpose of the image, for me and for us and for those who can understand its meaning by heart; to strengthen our faith in order to be in His embrace.

All of us have our angel taking care of us and about us. He guides us; directs us to the best options available for us. In times of danger, the angel is there to help and protect us. There is a strong union between our physical and spiritual body; the spirit gives life to the body and the body gives substance to the soul and spirit. If we cut off any part of our body, we lose only the physical part of our self; our soul is not dismembered. If we lose our entire physical body, our soul remains complete standing for judgment in front of the Lord.

Our body, alive with the soul, is prone to enticements, temptations, and sins. Inside us the flesh and the soul are intricately woven together and difficult to take apart. To separate the coffee from the cream in a cup is easier than to separate the soul from the body. Our inequities taint and corrupt our soul until it is entirely discolored and totally ruled by the flesh. If that happens we are walking away from God and in those moments our angel dutifully follows closely behind us. Obeying the desire of God, like a safety net ready to serve us in case we fall, our guardian will never leave us.

So when we have sinned, when we are in danger of falling into the hands of the devil but repented of our sins before death, our guardian angel imprisons himself within us, acting like an impenetrable armor in order to preserve us. He fuses with our soul to strengthen and protect it from the overtures of darkness. If we die with our Lord Jesus, rejecting the suspended promise of bliss by the devil, the angel, who is incarcerated within us, will wrestle himself out of our body with our soul. It will be freed holding our soul in his arms, shouting with all ecstasies and jubilations as if it were being born.

My younger sister Veronica called up long distance from the states urging me to be strong. Although she could not come home, she shared my grief. She and her husband Joel recalled their fondness and admiration for their little nephew. His talents, his courage, and persistence were extraordinary. It was wonderful to hear them extolling my son and to receive assurance for financial help and prayers.

After our talk, I called my elder sister Carina to tell her that my son found the place he liked to be laid to rest. I related to her about the incidents I and my son Patrick encountered as we looked for the best place. I also mentioned that we had a manifestation from Carlo, and she wanted to know all about it on the phone. I said, “You will see when you come tonight for the vigil.”

We talked about the interment once more, about the cost of the lot. She assured me that we would find a way to buy the lot. She would call the park office to ask for discounts, easy terms of payment, or other ways to ease the terms and lower the cost. Then she told me to reconsider the interment date; it was too soon, as if we were rushing things.

Okay I said, “I will call you again; we will postpone the date depending on the response from the office of the memorial park.”

After a while she called back telling me that there was no way we could avoid the policies. The agent told her that the lot should be paid on at-need basis and the minimum down payment would be 50% of the price. She added that the agent could look for other lots offered for resale and he would call her the moment he found one.

That was not comfortable since looking for lots for resale could take a while. But I told her that if my son Carlo really liked the place we would just wait and see. I was sure, that through me he would do everything from up there so he could be interred in that memorial park.

Carina also told me that Veronica had changed her mind and decided to go home. She was arriving on Thursday morning on the day of the scheduled interment.

The candle image placed on top of the coffin throughout the wake.

I would be too naïve not to recognize that there was again a force exerting pressure to move the date of the interment. I was thinking of Friday but Carlo would not agree on a Friday, so I decided that it should be Saturday, June 9. After that everything inside me calmed down.

My elder sister Carina arrived with her husband Manuel early that evening for the second night of the vigil, both were eager to see the manifestation

I was talking about. As soon as she saw the angel image Carina was amazed and filled with joy. She gave my son the rosary he was holding, she had prayed with him and so she knew that her prayers had been answered.

She investigated, asked around and called for the boy named Joshua who retrieved the image. The boy told her that he was playing a computer game at my cousin’s house within the compound when he felt an urge to go near the coffin. Tailed by other children he went inside our house and stayed near the coffin. Standing close to the casket was the metal candle holder with a big, white lighted candle. He decided to collect the melted drippings from the metal catchments to form it into a ball. They used to do that at the cemetery during All Saints Day.

Out of the many candle drippings, he picked up a large piece from the rest of the candle drips without effort. He looked closely at what he picked up and realized that it’s an image. He called to the people around him, ‘It’s an angel….it’s an angel.’ Everyone glanced at his direction and one by one each came over to see and examine the form of the candle. All were amazed and agreed that indeed it was shaped like an angel.

My brother-in-law Manuel took photos of the figure from several angles, magnifying it on his cell phone camera. Later on those pictures revealed a face at the center, a clearly perceptible face like that of a person.

From then on the atmosphere of the wake changed from that of mourning and sadness to one of awe and joy. The appearance of the image gave me and Carlo’s mother immense relief. It eased our troubled minds about our son wandering out there and lost. He is saved and safe in the hands of the Lord.

I was certain that my son was around us all those times, those saddest days of our lives. If we could retain our mortal emotions in the next life, my son would have also been sad to leave us. We had become inseparable like the earth to the sun.

Late that evening, all of us present, prayed the rosary together with greater confidence and belief. For all those times when I was looking for God, when I was shouting for help, when I was begging for Him to spare us from all these terrible events in our lives, when I was about to give up on Him because I felt that He no longer listened to my pleas, God sent us a beautiful image which was an assurance of His presence.

God gave us a physical sign everyone could see: a solid manifestation that anyone could hold, behold and appreciate. I was comforted and I trusted that God could see us all from up there and will never leave us. All events, even the saddest ones that happen to men are all in accordance with His grand plan for all mankind. Although in the process some people are caught in a terrible, gory outcome with no escape along the way, in the aftermath, He who is all-knowing would gather in His arms all the righteous people and take them to the mansions He prepared for them.

There are no regrets for the righteous in this divine harvest because death will wake them up to a gift of the afterlife, which is paradise, a place most beautiful than what men can create or ever dream of. If all people totally believed without an iota of doubt that there is life, a most beautiful life thereafter, then death would no longer be a mystery; many, even the righteous people, would rush to their own demise, voluntarily.

After praying the rosary I moved to a vacant place beside the coffin. It was getting late and viewers were going home one by one. I held the container and examined the image formed by the candle. I searched for a flaw or even a small evidence that this could have been formed intentionally; or if it was the work of a prankster or person with distorted mind. But why would such a person do that in the midst of our mourning, in our great feeling of loss? He must be a cruel person without respect for the dead and for our feelings to do that loathsome act. I was sure that no such person came near the coffin to commit such a pathetic deed.


The face at the center of the image taken by a cell phone camera

The first thing I noticed about the image was that if it were man made, it could not be done even by a good and well-trained artist or sculptor. They could shape one in wood, marble or stone, yes, but not by using drips from a lighted candle. Even the use of molding, or chipping away at a solid mass of candle would have left obvious traces of the efforts.

The image was of perfect symmetry; the head, the body and the    wing were proportionately shaped. If it were done in pieces and later    assembled, it would not have been a strong piece and it would disintegrate    or crack. On the contrary there was a strong fusion of the parts;    otherwise, even a slight pressure would have broken it apart.

A boy and not a grown-up person found it. If an adult got hold of it first, then he or she would not have recognized its real meaning and have it thrown away and destroyed. Instead, it revealed itself to the
innocent eyes of a boy, a child whose perception of things was not yet
corrupted and he could still see the world of the divine.

More awesome was the face appearing at the center of the image.
How could one rationally explain its formation? All my human deductions
and speculations could not comprehend nor explain it. But when
I looked at it with a heart of faith, I recognized that it was the handiwork
of the divine spirit.

I groped for its meaning; I searched for a message as I stared at the
image. Knowing my son’s unselfish personality, he was not the center
figure in the image. He was not the star of the show. His sufferings and
death may have brought forth an opportunity for this appearance, that
told us about something blessed. But it represented something better to
all who were able to cast their eyes on it, if they perceived it with their
hearts and not with their minds.

Then a rush of thought came pouring in; I was afraid that I might
easily lose it in my mind out of exhaustion so I hoped that it would be
revealed to me slowly.

“………as I was falling in the great abyss of darkness, a streak of light speeding from out of nowhere grasped me by the hand, an angel lifted me up to a glorious light of day, and the gates of heaven opened wide……”

“………look! see! believe it is true, there another life thereafter……..”

I retired to bed with a smile on my face and comfort in my heart. I
thanked God, Jesus and Mother Mary for this memorable day in my
life; for this experience of seeing the finger of God on this occasion. I
have never expected that God would meet me this way, because I am a
true sinner. That day has now been deeply etched in my heart forever.

Manuel de leon

* If you missed the previous postings the links are below:

Birth of an angel: introduction

Birth of an angel: chapter 1

Birth of an angel: chapter 2

Birth of an angel: chapter 3

Birth of an angel: chapter 4

Birth of an angel: chapter 5

Birth of an angel: chapter 6