We were sleeping at a cottage at Cobmoosa Shores, near Stony Lake, on the sandunes of Lake Michigan. Only Linda and I were there to sleep that night, but the previous day a couple of little grandchildren had been around. Their toys were lying here and there.
Early that Saturday morning we awakened to the music of one of the little wind-up toys. It played “Are you sleeping, are you sleeping Brother John, Brother John, morning bells are ringing, morning bells are ringing, Ding Ding Dong, Ding Ding Dong.” It played it through completely, then stopped. Since it had awakened us I checked the time, saw it was 6:00 A.M., and decided to get up and make coffee.
At 9:00 that morning the telephone rang. It was Nancy, Linda’s Step-mother. Linda had answered the phone, and she seemed rather serious in her manner as she listened and responded. When she hung up she told me “My Dad died this morning at 6:00 o’clock.”
Immediately I thought of the way we had awakened at six. It was a happy little song played for us at the moment of her father's death.
Were the Angels playing with the toys? It could not have been just a coincidence.