Easter In September
Stories
Vision Stories
True Accounts Of Visions, Angels, And Healing Miracles
The call came from the doctor that Dad had only a short time to live. At the age of eighty, after nearly fifty years of farming, this veteran of World War II was fighting a final battle with Parkinson's and heart disease.
Daughter Kati and I went ahead of the others and arrived at the nursing home outside Richland Center at about midnight. Exhausted after the two and half hour drive from Milwaukee, we spent an hour with Dad and then drove out to the farm to spend the night. We noticed, as we drove into the yard, that the Easter lily in the flower garden under the walnut tree was full of buds. Somehow I knew immediately that the lily would bloom on the day that Dad died. It was the same lily that had been in Dad's room during the Easter season. After the blossoms had all dried up, Dad had said, "Take it to the farm and set it out in the garden; it will bloom again." I did as he suggested and thought no more about it until I saw the buds that night.
We spent the following days at Dad's bedside, talking to him while he was still able, singing his favorite Gospel hymns and praying. Our family took turns being with him through six long days and nights. Each night, when I returned to the farm to rest, I noticed the buds on the lily were getting heavier and heavier. Finally, after a long struggle, Dad passed over at about 1:30 p.m. on September 15, 1998.
After a prayer with the pastor and hugs for the nursing home staff members who had cared for Dad so well, we returned to the farm with heavy hearts. We saw it before we pulled into the driveway: a glorious white blossom. The first bud had opened. I didn't know an Easter lily could bloom in September, and I certainly didn't expect it in Wisconsin.
On the day of the funeral there were two more beautiful blossoms. Friends and family from all around the country gathered in the yard on that warm September afternoon, after the funeral service. We sat in a circle under the walnut tree and wondered at this amazing sign of God's presence.
Daughter Kati and I went ahead of the others and arrived at the nursing home outside Richland Center at about midnight. Exhausted after the two and half hour drive from Milwaukee, we spent an hour with Dad and then drove out to the farm to spend the night. We noticed, as we drove into the yard, that the Easter lily in the flower garden under the walnut tree was full of buds. Somehow I knew immediately that the lily would bloom on the day that Dad died. It was the same lily that had been in Dad's room during the Easter season. After the blossoms had all dried up, Dad had said, "Take it to the farm and set it out in the garden; it will bloom again." I did as he suggested and thought no more about it until I saw the buds that night.
We spent the following days at Dad's bedside, talking to him while he was still able, singing his favorite Gospel hymns and praying. Our family took turns being with him through six long days and nights. Each night, when I returned to the farm to rest, I noticed the buds on the lily were getting heavier and heavier. Finally, after a long struggle, Dad passed over at about 1:30 p.m. on September 15, 1998.
After a prayer with the pastor and hugs for the nursing home staff members who had cared for Dad so well, we returned to the farm with heavy hearts. We saw it before we pulled into the driveway: a glorious white blossom. The first bud had opened. I didn't know an Easter lily could bloom in September, and I certainly didn't expect it in Wisconsin.
On the day of the funeral there were two more beautiful blossoms. Friends and family from all around the country gathered in the yard on that warm September afternoon, after the funeral service. We sat in a circle under the walnut tree and wondered at this amazing sign of God's presence.
