Roses From Heaven

It was on a Saturday, around one o'clock. Cushla, my late wife, and I were sitting in our parked car on Capel Street in Dublin’s city centre. We were trying to decide which restaurant to go to for lunch when out of the blue, I smelled an exquisite fragrance of perfume that seemed to fill the car. ‘Do you smell anything?’ I  asked Cushla. I had intuited that the aroma was from another dimension, but as with other supernatural phenomena that we had shared, I wanted, at least in the beginning, to play devil’s advocate and take the scientific and common-sense view. So, I endeavoured to eliminate any unconscious signals I might give her by remaining neutral and poker-faced. Nonetheless, her perfect 100 per cent track record regarding her psychic abilities remained intact: ‘There’s a strong smell of perfume’, she said.

We had experienced similar aromas before, but this was by far the strongest and most distinct. It was exceptionally beautiful and smelled like the fragrance of a rose or some flower. However, we weren’t exactly sure of its source, and although the aroma had taken over the entire space in the car, it wasn’t oppressive. Instead, it was otherworldly and brought us feelings of comfort, peace, and hope. We were now sure it was from another dimension, but we wondered which spirit was trying to communicate with us.

We never found out, but we agreed that there was a good chance the perfume was from the French saint, Thérèse of Lisieux, also known as ‘The Little Flower’. She was known for possessing the gift known as the ‘Odour of Sanctity'. Also called the ‘Gift of Perfume’, it continued after her death and not just in places connected with her—people in distant places worldwide smelled the distinct aromas.

St. Thérèse must have had a knowing when she said shortly before her death at the age of 24 in 1897: ‘When I die, I will send down a shower of roses from the heavens, I will spend my heaven by doing good on earth.’. The scent occurs to this day for some people when they call upon her intercession in prayer, which Cushla regularly did.

St. Thérèse was probably Cushla’s favourite saint. She had a particular devotion to her, so when we lost our daughter Meera through miscarriage, Cushla suggested we give Meera the second name Thérèse in honour of the saint. I agreed straight away, and from then on, we called our baby girl, Meera Thérèse

It wasn’t long after we lost Meera Thérèse that we had that supernatural experience in the car on Capel Street. (Also, it was around that time that Cushla’s long-term debilitating illness had worsened). Maybe, because of her devotion to St Thérèse, the saint was letting us know she was with us during these severe trials.

Cushla always had much greater faith than I did, but she never tried to convince me regarding the existence of the unseen world. She knew I had a dualistic mind when it came to matters of faith: my ‘higher self’ would believe, but the ‘Doubting Thomas’ in me would always have to have its say. ‘Maybe it’s just a coincidence, or it would have happened anyway', I’d say to her. But, after experiencing many more encounters with the unseen world, I couldn’t ignore the evidence anymore: I came to believe, more and more, that there is some other parallel dimension right beside us, one which we cannot experience with our five senses. Could this dimension be heaven? A book of divine messages titled I Am with You by Fr. John Woolley, a favourite of mine and Cushla’s, argues that this other dimension is very real. Fr. John Woolley tells of the words he received in prayer time from Jesus. In one message, Jesus says to him: ‘Do not feel that there is a sharp distinction between heaven and earth. Heaven is simply the realm where the presence surrounding you here is experienced more fully...the bliss of realisation.’

Perhaps, that time in the car on Capel Street, Cushla and I were given the grace to experience more fully that St Thérèse was with us all along.

Nowadays, as my faith grows stronger, I find it easier to imagine that heaven, with all my loved ones, the saints and the angels, is right beside me, albeit in another dimension. For instance, when I visit a church, and I stop to pray at the statues of St Thérèse and Padre Pio, I greet them in the same way as I would my earthly friends. I even touch the hem of their garments as a gesture of faith, dismissing from my mind that I’m only feeling plaster.

Some people might think I’m delusional, believing in the unseen world. My answer is that if they hold a philosophy that excludes the supernatural, this is what they will always say. No amount of testimonies or even personal encounters with the mystical will be good enough for them until the key metaphysical and philosophical question of the existence of God, and the afterlife is settled in their own minds and hearts.

I believe that we are all having supernatural experiences on a regular basis. But, more often than not, we don’t know we are: our minds are closed or distracted. Our attachments, pride and intellect get in the way. On top of that, our secular western world tries to convince us only science has the answers. But questions of ultimate meaning and mystical realities are outside the realm of science.

Although we need to be discerning, we also need to stay open to what God, the saints and angels are trying to tell us. They often want to show us the supernatural power available to us, not only when we are going through tough times but also when we need encouragement to turn dreams into reality.

St. Thérèse's Feast Day is October 1st