Having told you that I would relate a story told to me by my mother, I will do so.
In 1939, my mom gave birth to her first child. The baby was a girl with curly black hair. She gave the baby the name, Norma Jean.
Unfortunately, Norma Jean had to be delivered with forceps at a time when the procedure was not perfected and her skull was crushed in slightly in the back.
Mother told me this story many times over the years:
The baby, who lived four days, was unable to eat. My mother was very seriously injured by the birth and unable to care for her child. On the fourth day, mother was lying in bed, when she saw the ceiling of the room she was in open. She watched with amazement as she saw a person (Mother says an Angel) carry her baby through the opening and out of sight. Then the room returned to ‘normal’. A few moments later, a family member, I think my dad, came to her and told her that Norma Jean had just died.
Mother said she always felt at peace about the death because of what she witnessed.