Those of you who have been students of mine for many years, might recall me sharing this story once before. And, for various reasons, it feels like a good time to share it again. One of those reasons is because, although I love teaching the numerous topics needed for mankind’s learning and healing, this is one story that speaks volumes as to who I really am—in my heart and soul.

As you might imagine, traveling and teaching for over 35 years now has certainly given me a few stories to tell—stories that might, for one reason or another, seem unbelievable. I have seen/experienced many things ranging from angels to aliens and from the greatest miracles to hearing the most unimaginable traumas. However, when it comes to speaking or writing about some of the more incredible stories (especially those of a supernatural level), I’ve rarely shared my experiences, simply because many of these stories might seem too unbelievable. Others are so powerful and/or moving, it is simply too difficult to speak about them without feeling emotionally overwhelmed.

Now, perhaps it’s because I am “getting old” or perhaps it’s because the world is going through so many changes, or perhaps once again I am merely following the life-metaphor of Jesus who seemed to save the best of himself for the last years of his life. Whatever the reason, at the beginning of this year, I felt inspired to be more forthcoming with my deeper teachings and more profound experiences. To begin with, I decided to share some very “far out” things with my friends/students. These things have included sharing the deeper purpose for our work at Unity of Sedona and my own work through Grail Productions. At this time however, I would like to share with you an experience I had about 20 years ago.

In the old days of touring, I used to take time to go for short walks during my breaks between sessions. One day, while on one of these walks, I passed by a park and saw a football sitting on the grass, apparently left behind by someone. So I walked over and picked it up. Now, since I couldn’t easily throw it to myself, I opted to play target practice on a nearby wall and began throwing the ball at a selected spot. I would then retrieve the ball, walk some distance away and throw it again.

After about 5 minutes, a young boy walked up and asked what I was doing, so I explained a little. After talking to the kid for 10 minutes or so, a young girl joined us. She looked a little thin and sickly. When I asked her about her condition, she only told me she often had seizures. Besides this, I could feel that there was something else that was very unusual about both of these children. What the issue was would become very apparent to me (intuitively) just moments later. We spoke a little longer and off they went.

Intrigued by what I had sensed about these children, I returned to the park a few more times that week. Each time I went, the kids were still there, but each time, there were more and more kids. This is not that unusual, as we all know that schools sometimes bring kids on field-trips to local parks. Sadly, however, they all looked a little sickly. So, by this time, I now assumed they must be a group of sick children form a local hospital.

On my third visit, the children asked me if I could lead them in playing a game. Having gotten to know them and what they really needed, I decide to play a game with the kids wherein I was going to be like the Pied Piper or like a marching band leader and they would march along behind me. Imagine how potentially embarrassing it was to have people in cars passing by this park seeing me pretending to lead a marching band, waving an invisible baton and blowing a make-believe whistle, calling out, “Come on kids, follow me!”

I then got the kids to follow me in singing:

“Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world.
Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight.
Jesus loves the little children of the world.”

I said to the kids, “Let’s go marching over this bridge and through that big gate [which were both make-believe].” So on we went until we reached our destination, at which time I saw a tall thin man. It was obvious to me that this was their teacher, who appeared to be ready to take them back. So I nodded my head at him and waved goodbye at which point he smiled with appreciation and nodded back. I didn’t have a chance to say anything to the children since, before I knew it, they had all run excitedly to their teacher. So I turned and walked away.

At some point, I realized the kids were ghosts. That’s right…I know it may sound a bit far out but the kids were all ghosts. This was why they gave me such a peculiar feeling when I first met them. It turned out the “park” I had visited was near a graveyard. These children had not properly passed over when they died and were now finding comfort in being around each other. They appeared sickly because each was showing the particular illness that caused them to die. The “teacher” they ran to was actually Jesus who had been waiting to receive them. It only took me a moment to recognize him (as he was disguised as the teacher they needed him to be), and when I did, I felt (in my heart) an incredible sense of peace and relief for the children.

There are several things I learned from this experience. First of all, it was an honor to be there for these children and to help them in such a way. Second, the fact that they were all looking so sick (even after they no longer had dense bodies), shows us how much we can hold on to programs and distorted views of ourselves. We, living or dying, sometimes hold onto the projections that we or others place onto us, that is, until someone comes along and releases us. We need not wait another moment.

We can release ourselves in this very instant, and we can make it a daily practice to release others from their prison as well.How? By first caring enough about ourselves and others to recognize these false projections or problems, then choosing to answer the call for help in the best way we can. It’s all about helping ourselves and others to see the light at the end of the dark tunnel or to see the gateway to freedom that lies across the bridge of healing. Here the true essence of our inner Christ (rather than our false projections) awaits us all.

michael mirdad