Authors: Lorna Byrne
When we reached the forest it looked overgrown and very
dark. 'I can't go for a walk in that forest,' I said. Michael took
my hand and, as we walked, the brambles moved apart and we
had a path. We came to a little opening in the forest, looking
down across the fields and the lake. Sometimes it is nice just to
walk and know that the angels are right beside me and that I
have nothing to fear; but that night, walking through the forest
with Michael, I had a vague sense of something watching me.
I didn't give it much thought, though, and I didn't ask
Michael about it.
Next morning, after breakfast, Da invited Joe to go fishing
with him again and off they went with their fishing gear. I
called after them to bring some fish home for our tea. Da said
he'd try, but he couldn't promise, and they headed off down to
the lake. Mum was busy out in the garden, doing something or
other with flowerpots, so, when I had cleaned up, I went off
with the children down the boreen and where the trees were;
it was a wild place and they loved it there.
Later, Mum and I went off walking with the children down
towards the lake, enjoying the last day of our holiday. We
talked to people we met on the way: some were holidaymakers
like ourselves and some were local people Mum had got to
know. When we got down to the shore of the lake there were
a lot of families there. The children and I played in the water;
they enjoyed picking up stones, throwing them and watching
the splash and feeling the ripple of the water hitting their legs.
There were tears when it was time to head back to the house.
Shortly afterwards, Joe and Dad arrived home with some
trout. Dad took the trout outside and showed the children how
to chop off the head and the tail and clean them out. 'Ugh,' the
children went, 'Ugh!'
'That's an easy thing to do,' I told them. 'I learned how to
clean out fish and cook them as a child. It's great to know
how to do it, particularly when you can cook them over a
campfire.'
No sooner had I said this than Christopher wanted us to
build a campfire to cook the fish. Unfortunately, we had to say
no because we were going back to Maynooth that night. We
did eat the lovely trout, though, but it was cooked in the
kitchen. As soon as we were finished tea, we had to clean up
and then pack the car.We arrived back at Maynooth and Mum
and Da went home – the holiday was over.
We never had very much; I used to ask the Lord, 'How on earth
do we survive?' But we did. I always seemed to manage on a
shoe string. I would count coppers and grow vegetables to
make things stretch. There was no such thing as buying new
clothes for Joe or myself. Every now and then my mother
would say she had a bag full of clothes – I don't know where
she got them from, but they never suited me, they were always
too big and made me look like a granny. Sometimes, but not
always, there might be trousers or jumpers in the bag that
would fit Joe. We would laugh and say, 'Beggars can't be
choosers.'
Many times, my engagement ring was a godsend. Pawnbrokers
were a blessing for us, as for many families in Ireland
at that time – there was almost always a queue. I remember
occasions when we went into the pawnbrokers and came out
with money in my hand, feeling like a millionaire. On occasions
when we didn't even have money for bread and butter to
put on the table, Joe would thumb a lift into Dublin, with my
engagement ring in his pocket, and head straight for the pawnbrokers.
He would get maybe ten pounds for it and then, over
time, we would save up to get it back again. What a lifesaver
that ring turned out to be!
Joe was given a bicycle by a neighbour: an old man down the
road who had asked him to help him clean up his house and
garden and, out of gratitude, gave him his old bicycle. It only
needed cleaning up and a few minor repairs. I thanked God
and the angels for the gift of the bicycle, and the old man for
listening to his angels. Joe could now cycle to work at the
carpet factory.
Despite the shortage of money, those years were great; they
were wonderful times when it was lovely to be alive, to see my
children smiling and to see Joe being able to enjoy life for a
while.
The summer after I lost the baby, Joe had a great idea. He
went off to the bicycle shop in Celbridge and made a deal: in
return for two weeks of cleaning the bike shop and sorting out
all the bicycles and bits and pieces in the yard every evening,
he would be paid two bicycles – an adult's one and a child's
one. Then, with Owen on the back of Joe's bike, we could all
go on outings together.
So, every evening after work he went to the bicycle shop,
and by the time he got home it was after midnight. But it was
worth it – at the end of the first week he brought home a child's
bike. It was badly in need of repair, though, and in many ways
it looked like a piece of junk. Halfway through the second
week, the man in the bike shop gave him the adult bike and
this one looked much better.
Christopher was very excited about getting a bicycle and, with
his help, eventually we got the bikes all fixed up. Christopher,
who was a very skinny young lad at the time, was out there
helping his dad, learning how to oil the chain and fix spokes and
all that kind of thing. He also learnt how to cycle very well.
I always remember the first day we decided to cycle to
Donadea, some six miles away, for a picnic. Joe said six miles
was a long cycle for a five-year-old, so we'd have to see how far
we would get before Christopher got too tired. Joe had a seat
on the back of his bike for Owen and I had the bags with the
picnic on the back of mine.
I was worried about Christopher, knowing it was a long
cycle, but I shouldn't have worried at all, as he was well able
for the cycle. We did stop every now and then to have a little
rest, though, or walk a little with the bikes.
After that, we went to Donadea for a picnic as often as
possible and had lovely times. It had a stillness and peace,
particularly in the evening time when everyone had gone
home. There was also what many people called a lake, I called
it a pond, with ducks, and there was a little bridge to a tiny
island which had four trees and a few picnic tables, but no
grass.
On arrival, we would light a little camp-fire and make tea.
The children loved sitting at a camp-fire on the island with the
water all around them and the ducks coming up beside them,
looking for bread.We would have our tea and our sandwiches
and look at the stars above. I know we weren't really meant to
light a camp-fire there, because of the forest, but we were
always very careful. Da had taught me a lot about camp-fires
and other things to do with nature when I was a child: he had
taught me about lighting fires, about walking safely along a
river bank, about swimming and currents in the water; he had
told me that there were rules about everything.
One evening we were there, the stars were shining and there
was a full moon in the sky, so it was quite bright. There was no
one else around, just us and the ducks. We had lit a little fire
and the children were eating their sandwiches and playing
around – little boys doing all kinds of things. I told Joe I would
like a few moments on my own and I asked him to keep an eye
on the boys while I went for a walk. For some time now I had
been aware of something watching me from very far away. I
wanted to talk about this with the angels.
Joe protested that it was dark. But I replied, 'I'll take the
torch with me.'
I walked across the little wooden bridge on to a little path in
the direction of the old castle, then right again to where there
was a fair-sized green with a lot of trees around it. I went
around the big oak tree so that Joe couldn't see me. I really
wanted to be on my own and I knew that he would be
watching for me.
Angel Elijah appeared, like a vibrant light among the trees,
and walked out into the clearing, calling my name. As Elijah
reached out towards me, my hands lifted towards him and he
enveloped them in his hands.
We communicated, but there were no words: Elijah was
speaking without words. 'Lorna, he walks in the darkness.
Don't be afraid, he cannot come any closer unless God allows
him. Do you know who I am talking about?'
'Yes, Angel Elijah,' I said. 'Satan. Is that who has been
watching me in the dark? I have been conscious of someone,
or something's, presence on the outskirts of my life – beyond
the circle of light that surrounds me, millions of miles away in
another circle of darkness where he hides. For the last six
months, I have been scared, even though I know that God and
all of you angels are protecting me.'
'Lorna, this is happening because one day God is going to
test you by putting you in the presence of Satan,' Elijah said.
'Where will God be when this is happening?' I asked.
'God will be on your right and Satan will be on your left,'
said Elijah.
'God will be with me to give me the strength,' I said, 'that is
all that matters.' But inside I was filled with an enormous dread
and terror. Then Angel Elijah let my hands go, and as they fell
to my side I was filled with a feeling of peace and love. Elijah,
smiling, gestured to me to look behind me, and disappeared.
Joe was coming up behind me with the children.
Christopher had his bike and Joe had the two bikes and Owen
as well.
'Lorna, we have to go now. It's really getting late.' He spoke
in a quiet voice, as if not to wake any of the creatures in the
forest.
'I didn't notice the time pass,' I said.
I took my bike and we walked along the paths and out onto
the road. I felt very quiet and very still; very detached from the
human world, and my family. From that moment I could feel
that Satan was on his way towards me: it might take months or
even years for him to come to me, but I was certain that we
would meet.
One winter evening, Joe and I arrived at the prayer group in
Maynooth. There were already about twenty-five people in the
room, a lot of them young men. Johnny, a very spiritual
person, welcomed everybody and we all started to pray
together and sing, which I always loved. Then everybody,
including myself, went into silent prayer. You could have
heard a pin drop. An angel whispered in my ear, 'Lorna, open
your eyes and raise your head. Do you see the young man to
the right?'
'Yes,' I whispered back.
'Lorna, you are going to share that young man's vision.
Lower your head now and close your eyes,' the angel
whispered.
I went into his vision immediately. I was walking beside the
young man, along a winding, dusty road, full of stones and
holes; I could never see very far ahead, because there was
always another turn. He was walking for some time but he
always managed to avoid the stones and the holes. He seemed
to be lost, but he wasn't really because around the next turn
was a building with steps leading up the left-hand side. With
great effort, the young man started to make his way up the
steps – it was as if they became steeper with each step. Slowly,
he made his way to the door.
Watching his vision, it was as if the building had grown and
now seemed vast. From the road it had looked a normal size,
but now it was gigantic. The young man stood back in
amazement. The door now in front of him was enormous: very
big and heavy, and he was tiny by comparison. He wanted to
go in, but it was going to take great effort. Using all his weight,
he eventually succeeded in pushing it open and squeezed
inside into an enormous empty hall which was filled with a
great light. He sat down on the floor and began meditating in
prayer, a tiny speck in this massive place.
I felt the touch of the angel's hands on my head, and the
connection between the young man and myself was broken.
'It is time for sharing,' Johnny said.
One by one, people started to share. Eventually, the young
man who had had the vision started to speak. He described the
vision as he had experienced it – it was exactly as I had seen it.
This was the first time that I ever shared another person's
vision in this way and I was very excited about it. At the end of
his description, the young man said he didn't understand what
the vision meant.
The angels asked me to speak; they told me that I must tell
the young man the significance of his vision, in order to give
him courage to continue with his journey.
I was nervous; I was terrified!
'I can't do this,' I said to the angels, 'They won't listen to me
– I'm just an ordinary person.'
The young man stopped speaking. The angels kept telling
me I had to do it, and I kept giving them reasons why I
shouldn't. Then another young man spoke and the angels told
me to pay attention and listen to what he had to say.
'There is someone at the prayer meeting to whom God is
talking. This person is afraid and nervous.' That is all he said.
God was asking me not to hide any more.
I took a big, deep breath just as Johnny said, 'If that is all the
sharing, we will say a prayer together.'
'No, I have something to say,' I said. I turned to the first
young man and explained to him that the vision related to his
fear of becoming a priest. I told him that there would be a lot
of obstacles on the path that God had laid out for him, but he
would overcome them. He would make a big difference, not
just in Ireland, but in other parts of the world. He needed to
have faith and belief in God and in himself and he should take
up his bag and go on his journey. I explained this was the
message that the angels had given me for him.
Then Johnny started to pray and we sang and praised God. I
really enjoyed that part. I was told by the angels that I had
more to do at future prayer meetings, but I told the angels that
I was dreading the thought of what they would ask me to do
next.
The prayer meeting ended and we had tea and biscuits
before Joe and I walked home. Joe made no comment about my
having talked at the prayer group.
A few months later, at another prayer meeting in Maynooth,
Johnny said, 'Let us all pray and ask for the healing that is
needed within our families, or for our friends or anywhere in
the world.'
Everyone shared, one by one: some people had problems in
their families, or their friends had problems. People prayed for
family members or friends to get well, or for a daughter's exam
success; there were also prayers for help with a much-needed
holiday and a decision about a car. Miracles were asked to
achieve world peace, for governments, for help for priests and
nuns and different charities – for so many things. It seemed a
lot of miracles were needed. All the while the angels kept
tapping on my shoulder and saying, 'Now, Lorna. You know
what to say.'
I took a deep breath. 'There is someone here,' I started, 'who
needs a lot of prayer for her family. She has a brother who is
married and he suffers with a drink problem and is abusing his
wife and children. This person loves their brother very much.
There is a court case coming up to do with something else and
there is an awful lot of stress. God is saying to you that there is
no need to be ashamed. Come and talk to Him. Have faith and
pray for everything to be all right.'
I finished. No one said anything else.
Sometimes in prayer groups certain people will lay hands on
others and pray with them, sometimes out loud. Johnny then
asked whether anyone wanted to be prayed over, and called
out the names of those who would pray over other people.
I was not one of them – I never had been – but that's not the
way it turned out that day. God had other plans.
People got up and walked around the room, chatting, and
some went off to make tea. A nun walked towards me; I smiled
at her and said hello. It did not dawn on me that she was going
to ask me to pray with her, but she did.
'Would you mind praying with me Lorna? It was me you
were talking about and I need to talk to God through you.'
I nearly lost my voice. 'Yes, of course,' I said, 'but not in here
with everybody. Can we leave the room and go somewhere
else, where we can be on our own?'
'Of course,' she said. We went out into the corridor and
found an empty room three doors down. We went in and sat
down together, just the two of us – little did she know that I
was shaking. 'Oh my God, what are you doing?' I kept praying.
Angels appeared all around us, whispering in my ear, 'You
are in God's hands, Lorna.'
I prayed over the nun and I thanked God for the wonderful
things that would change in her life. Then I said to her, 'It's
time for you to talk to God.'
She started to talk; she must have talked for about an hour.
At the end we prayed together. Every now and then, the
angels told me to open my eyes and look at her. The angel
who was with her, her guardian angel, was beautiful. I called
her guardian angel 'the angel of peace and tranquillity'. I never
told the nun I could see her angel or that the angel had her
wrapped in her arms with her wings around her, that it was
merged with her. I smiled, closed my eyes again and praised
God more. Then the angels told me to go back to the other
room.
When we got back to the other room, almost everyone was
gone. Joe and I walked home. He said he was very surprised
that I had spoken and I told him I found it very hard because I
was so nervous, but that I had to do what God had asked me
to do, with the angels' help. That was the first time I had ever
prayed 'over' someone. I had, of course, prayed for many
people before, but I always did so secretly, without them
knowing.
Joe's work at the carpet factory meant he was out most nights.
Many times, when the children were in bed, I would sit in front
of the fire, take a deep breath, close my eyes and when I
opened them again there would be lots of angels sitting around
the fire with me. I would talk to them about everything. I
would tell them that one of the most wonderful things was that
I could talk to them, no matter where I was, and know that
they were hearing my words. I talked to the angels constantly
– they were my companions, my best friends.
When it got late I would tell the angels that they had better
go because Joe would be home soon and I had things to do.
The angels would then disappear physically, but I would still
feel their presence; sometimes I would even feel an angel
brushing off me. One particular evening, that is exactly what
one angel did – brushed against me – and then appeared, just
for a moment. This angel smiled at me and touched my belly,
saying, 'God has granted your desire for another baby.' Then
the angel disappeared.
Shortly afterwards, I discovered I was pregnant. Joe was
thrilled; he said it would be lovely if the baby was a little girl.
I did not seem to have too many difficulties during the pregnancy
this time, and I thanked God for that.
After Christmas we decided to look at names for our unborn
child. Joe said there was no point picking a boy's name this
time; he was sure it was going to be a girl. We decided on the
name Ruth. I went into labour about ten days early and was
admitted into hospital. Then the labour stopped for a while.
During this time,Mum and Da came in to visit and brought me
some fruit. Da said he was looking forward to another
grandson and Joe told him, 'It won't be a boy this time! Wait
and you'll see – it will be a girl.'
When Mum and Da were leaving the hospital, I decided to
walk with Joe to the main entrance. Mum and Da were ahead
of us as my grandparents, Mum's parents, walked in through
the doors of the hospital. Mum and Da stopped to talk to them
and Joe and I said hello.We were standing about two feet away
from Mum and Da when my grandmother said to my parents,
'Isn't Lorna lucky her boys aren't retarded like herself, or even
worse! We expect this baby will be, though.'
Her guardian angel appeared behind her – there were tears
in the angel's eyes and he reached out and touched me, giving
me strength. But I was devastated. I could see Joe was shocked
to overhear this comment too. My grandparents had spoken to
my parents as if we did not exist. I moved away, with Joe's arm
around me.
'Don't mind them,' Joe said, 'they are ignorant people.'
He walked back to the ward with me. I was crying, knowing
what they were thinking. Angels appeared all around my bed
and filled Joe and I with peace and love. I asked Joe not to
mention to my parents what we had overheard.
But one of the things that upset me most that day was that
my father didn't defend me. I was deeply upset that he did not
rebuke my grandparents although I think I know why. He
knew my mother's parents didn't fully approve of him either –
they felt she had married beneath her, despite all the progress
he had made. Da loved Mum very much; he felt he had caused
a rift between my mother and her parents, and he was anxious
not to widen it.
I understood why Da hadn't defended me, but it still hurt,
and I lay there that night crying my heart out.
Years later I discovered, accidentally, that Granny, my
mother's mother who had made those dreadful comments, had
had a baby with Down's syndrome. The baby had a bad heart
and only lived to be six or seven. For all her short life, she was
kept in a bedroom upstairs, shut away from all the neighbours.
I was told they felt ashamed to have a 'retarded' child.
In the early hours of the next morning I went into labour and
our little daughter, Ruth, was born on the 25th of March – on
Mother's Day and my own birthday. What a great birthday
present!
The day we were discharged from hospital, Joe arrived with
Christopher and Owen. The boys ran over to my bed but Joe
walked slowly. There were angels around him, supporting him.
His guardian angel came forward and told me Joe was not well.
I wanted to cry, but I knew I had to smile. Christopher and
Owen were both fussing over their new little sister, wanting to
hold her, and Joe took our little daughter out of the cot and let
her little brothers put their arms around her. I asked Joe if he
was okay and he said yes – though I knew it wasn't the truth,
and he knew it too. I told the angels that I was really worried
about him and I asked them to do anything they could to help.
About two months later, Joe was working on the night shift
when he got bad pains in his stomach. He went to his boss and
told him he was feeling unwell and asked if someone could
take him home.
'No, you look fine to me,' his boss said, and sent him back to
work.
The thing was that Joe hardly ever looked sick because he
was tall and strong-looking. Eventually, though, he told his
boss that he was going home anyway, that he was too sick to
work. About two in the morning, the angels woke me, saying,
'Lorna, get up. Joe is not well; he's on his way home. We are
sending him help.'
I got up straight away, turned on all the lights, put on the
kettle and then got myself dressed. I stood at the window
looking out, praying to God to get Joe home safely somehow.
Joe told me later that, about halfway between Celbridge and
Maynooth, he collapsed along the side of the road. He remembered
coming round and crawling on his hands and knees
when suddenly the lights of a car shone on him. It was a neighbour
from Maynooth who stopped, turned his car around and
got out to help. At first this neighbour assumed it was a drunk
and could not believe his eyes when he recognised Joe. Joe
explained he had a lot of pains in his stomach and the man
offered to drive him home.
An angel tapped me on the shoulder. 'Lorna, go and open
the gates; Joe is almost here.'