MY parents died within six days of each other. I was really struggling with my grief the day that my siblings and I went to the church to make plans for our parents’ funerals and to see the garden where their ashes would be interred.

Outside the church, I was nearly on the ground weeping when I looked up and saw a dove sitting on the cross of the church’s steeple. “Look, there’s Mom,” I shouted. Everyone looked up and smiled, knowing that Mom would have been so happy to see all of us together, taking care of her and Daddy. We were still working on the arrangements when I looked up and saw another dove sitting on the cross, “and there’s Daddy!” I shouted.

I planted a weeping cherry tree in our yard to honor my parents. One day I came home and sitting at the base of the tree, in the sun, were two doves. I know the doves were a sign that my parents are fine and that we, their children, will be fine too.

ONE blustery October afternoon, I was in a desperate mood over my son’s drug addiction. I wanted to meditate but I couldn’t stop crying. So, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I prayed, asking for a “sign” that he would be okay.

Finally, drying my tears, I went to my computer to do some work. Without warning a big gust of wind howled and I heard a crash on my patio. Startled, I ran outside to find a metal sign lying on the patio floor that read “NO SNIVELING!” I looked around, and couldn’t see where it could have come from—I knew it was the sign I had asked for.

I put the sign in an honorary place in my home and enjoyed it as my spiritual reminder. Then, while sweeping my patio one day, a voice from the upstairs apartment inquired, “Have you seen a sign that said ‘NO SNIVELING?’ It’s missing from my balcony.”

Before I could think, I said “No, I never saw it!” It was not like me to lie, so a week later I knocked on my neighbor’s door and apologized to him for having lied. I told him the entire story about the sign; he was so moved he gave it to me.

One day I saw him in the hall, and he told me he’d just returned from vacation. He shared that he had told my story everywhere he went. He said, “You know, I really believe it is a sign from God, and when I tell the story, I feel honored, like I was God’s messenger!” That, to me, was a validation of God in action. Most importantly, my son is healed.

AFTER my divorce, I relocated to a new city and took a job that paid me considerably less than my former position. It didn’t take long for me to find out how financially devastating life as a single mother of three children could be. I often worried about having enough money.

One day while walking my dog, I was so engrossed in thoughts of my financial woes that I crossed an intersection without looking for oncoming traffic. When I snapped back to consciousness, I was aghast at what I’d done; it was then that I recognized the negative energy I was feeding my problem.

At that moment, I released my worry to a higher power, and proclaimed that my money challenges would be lifted. It was then that I glanced down at the sidewalk and saw a dime.

Picking up the coin, I accepted it as a sign of my commitment and confidence in a higher power. This is how the journey down my dime-laden path began.

Over the past ten years, I have found more than one hundred fifty dimes, at significant times in my life. My dime sign has led me to financial security, as well as to the knowledge that wherever I am is where I am supposed to be.

ONE night in bed I had just closed my eyes when I felt the bed move. Initially I thought it was one of our cats, but it wasn’t. It happened two more times that night. On the last time, I saw in my mind’s eye a younger, beautiful, vibrant image of my mother leaning against the bed joyously shaking me saying “It’s time! It’s time!”

I didn’t know what to make of the vision. I had been with

my mother earlier that day and at the age of seventy-six she was frail and not happy about having recently been placed in a nursing home. Even though I had prayed for years to forgive the issues we had between us I couldn’t; out of my guilt of feeling responsible for her, my lifelong feelings of hatred toward her had begun to consume me.

Talking with my daughter about my moving bed incident, she suggested that maybe it was time for my mother and I to stop playing unhealthy games with each other—I agreed. I hung up with my daughter, pulled up a chair across from me and I pictured my mom sitting in it. I closed my eyes and prayed to God to show me how to forgive her.

Suddenly I saw the most beautiful, brilliant light come from above. It radiated into my mother’s heart, then into mine and then it returned to what appeared to be the heart of God. In that brief moment I saw my mother as God saw her, as a divine, spiritual being. It was a healing revelation for me!

When I went to see my mom the next day her health had suddenly taken an unexpected turn for the worse. Holding her hand I noticed how different things seemed; I could accept who she was without guilt or judgment— she died the next day. I am blessed that I had the chance to experience a healing of our relationship before she passed.