Why I Believe Our Autistic Children Are Earth Angels

Earth Angel image created by Marilyn Glover with Canva

This story was originally posted on Vocal Media a year ago and cross-published on Medium. I share it yet again here on my personal website to demonstrate the personal spiritual significance and to encourage readers to broaden their mindsets beyond human conditioning.

 The Metamorphosis of my mind

He was just a boy, a little boy, my Elijah, when he insisted he was an angel receiving his wings. Of course, I chalked it all up to a child with an overactive imagination, but the mother in me listened while he told his tale. "I feel them trying to push through my back," he cried joyously, lifting his shirt and directing my attention a few inches below his shoulder blades.

But I saw nothing.

Common sense told me Elijah's words came from carefree innocence and the wide-eyed wonder of a creative boy, but the empath in me felt guilty for not believing. My guilt was compounded by the notion that I believed in angels, but one walking on this earth in the form of a child, mine.

No, it wasn't possible.

Part of me grappled with the concept. Elijah's persistence despite his sisters' eye rolls and "Mom, make him stop" spoke to my inner voice, often questioning what if?...

Frankly, I did not perceive my son as a liar; I felt he wholeheartedly believed, which made me want to do the same.

As a long-time believer, angels have comforted me through many trying experiences. There's something to be said about the beauty of embracing a helping hand from a higher plane of existence. While not religiously motivated, my spirit accepted these light beings into my heart and home like family.

I accepted entities unseen to the naked eye but refused to believe my own flesh and blood's acknowledgment.

All I had to work with were the facts: my son was somehow different from other children. It would be years before I fully understood how.

Born two months premature in 1999, Elijah was the only survivor of a set of twins. Sadly, I miscarried his sister during my first trimester.

As Elijah got older, I knew something was off, but I could never put my finger on the issue. Doctors said I was a worrisome mother and that my son would catch up to his peers. Yes, he was smaller than other children his age and had eye issues due to his premature birth, but that wasn't it.

Heightened senses, extreme sensitivity to light and sound, and texture discrepancies with food were early signs. Difficulty verbally expressing thoughts in a conversational setting and repetitive actions, like rituals, were other signs, but back then, a neurological issue was overlooked.

So the angelic proclamations continued. My little boy began drawing, fixated on wings, paper creations, and those on his body. Elijah went next level on me, declaring, "He didn't belong in this world." Truth be told, this often frightened me, and I couldn't understand why he would say such things.

As a mother, all I could do was listen to my child, my elementary school-aged son, and try my hardest not to judge, discount his intellectual efforts, or sway his adamant mindset.

Time and circumstances transitioned Elijah's focus from angel self-declarations to music and his gift of song. From sunup to sundown, my son sang his heart out. Maybe not an angel, but his voice would surely impress all the angels in heaven. Soul soothing and delightful, my little boy would continue to sing throughout the years. He would even sing at school, which resulted in many phone calls from annoyed teachers, but I never scolded or punished him.

"I can't help it, mommy," Elijah always said. And I believed him.

Soon, many instances of bullying began. He was pegged as weird because of his proud artistic gestures, his heightened senses, his "love for the world" personality, and his preference for being more on the sidelines rather than part of a group.

Despite it all, the boy, the child, the son, my Elijah, sang and sang. He sang his heart out to the world while often enduring side-eyed glances, underbreath cruelties, misunderstanding, and ostracism from peers, teachers, and others who refused to embrace him as he is.

All I knew was that I was proud of my son. No matter what he endured, his love for humanity was ever-present like a tattoo on his spirit. World news: climate, political, and social issues captured his soul, his attention to all that is wrong in this world, while he sang songs of better days, the way he envisioned the world should be.

Years later

In the Summer of 2020, Autism was confirmed after an older friend of mine, a retired state worker, insisted I investigate. An inconsistent eye exam warranted further investigation, so his pediatrician ordered a testing session. It was an emotional day I will never forget. I cried, and Elijah's doctor cried too. Not only was she his lifelong pediatrician, but she was also the director of Home of Autism, a local practice, and she was a mother of a little boy with Autism.

All those years passed, and even medical professionals were none the wiser.

My heart sank. Guilt, shame, and devastation took over me because I was Elijah's mom, the closest person to him, and I didn't know.

But then, it all came rushing back, striking me like lightning bolts, waking up a sleepy-eyed mindset.

My Mind Metamorphosis

Angel Wings Image- created by Marilyn Glover using Canva

"Let there be light" was a gross understatement. It was as if part of my brain got a supercharge.

A relatable parallel might be a jumpstart to a dying car battery.

Nonetheless, suddenly, I felt all incidents of the past, all the times my boy insisted he was an angel, all the times he held his head up despite the naysayers, all the times he stood his ground with nothing but love in his heart, defending his thoughts, defending the little person, defending the helpless, and people unheard- others much like him.

All this light and love from a boy, a child, my son, Elijah, suddenly made so much sense that I was cross with myself for missing it all those years.

I realized


My son is an angel, an earth angel, sent to deliver a message to humanity

Yes, I realize it's quite a leap in ideology, but reflection told me the signs were there all along. The problem was that I adopted a seeing-is-believing mentality instead of the believing-is-seeing, which I knew was the preferred method from countless personal experiences that confirmed my belief in angels.

Furthermore, an Autism diagnosis would not be paralleled to a disability in my household. Doing so would "dis all of my son's abilities."

Then my epitome metamorphosis multiplied tenfold.

I knew right then and there that it all made sense. It all tied together like a neat little bow, but the bow was not bright red, bright orange, bright green, or even bright purple- it was translucent, meant for me to discover its many faceted shades in one place- my mind. And to access this higher-mind concept, my spirit had to extend all-open arms.

The messenger

If angels are messengers, and earth angels are reincarnated souls who wish to come back to earth to teach humanity a lesson, raise awareness, and evolve mankind's mindset, my Elijah, whose name is revered as a miracle worker in The Book of Kings, is surely here to fulfill a lightworker's purpose.

With everything that happens in our world, from the good to the bad, the hot and the cold, so to speak, my son is the middleman, the warmth, the in-between, vying for attention.

Attention to finer details

He is the perfect example of what is beautiful about our existence, the beauty so often overlooked because, sadly, we as people opt to see things in black and white.


The if it's not this, then it has to be that mentality that cripples our growth as a race, the human race.

Elijah is the embodiment of a unique set of attributes unknown to many and does not fit the idealized "Status quo," but his differences are gifts, gifts worth celebrating, just like the obvious ones wrapped with a shiny, bright bow laid out for all to see.

Autism

Autism, now called ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder), is an umbrella term signifying a neurological condition with a wide range of characteristics, indicating a "not one size fits all" mentality.

The rainbow symbolism associated with Autism urges one to consider not only the individual colors from red to purple but also the more intricate shades within each hue. Color combinations take on countless blends, making the rainbow the perfect emblem for the neurologically challenged.

Yes, there are many shades of beauty in the world, and Autism embodies color like artwork, each palette, each canvas, uniquely crafted to share with the world.

But remember I previously said I would not parallel Elijah's Autism to disability because it"disses his abilities"? Well, I also don't favor "Disorder" in ASD because it negates his order, the order suited to his being.

Autistic souls are here to show the world that it's okay to be different, it's okay to have a presence that does not adhere to the all too often imposed societal norms.

In fact, it's brilliant!

Being misunderstood in a world where people assume everything must have a specific meaning or fit in a neat little box is difficult, heartwrenching even for family, loved ones, and friends.

But what if humanity's mindset were to broaden, evolve, and metamorphose to be more accepting, looking beyond surface-level things, people, and circumstances? 

Well, that would most certainly be a giant leap in the right direction.

Evidentiary specifics or fantasy outlook?

Looking back further, recalling specifics may or may not bear weight supporting my son's earthangel presence, but I share to encourage an open mind to "other" possibilities.

Elijah was born with a large Mongolian Spot on his lower back. Also known as blue mark or its clinical name, congenital dermal melanocytosis, this spot holds deep spiritual meaning across cultures.

Mostly a sign of blessing, here are 3 spiritual connotations of children born with a Mongolian Spot:  

1. African- indicates the destiny of a leader or healer with supernatural abilities. Also symbolized nobility and prosperity
2. Indian- also a sign of prosperity. Children who have it are celebrated and are believed to attract opportunity wherever they go
3. Native American- symbolizes spiritual protection. A lucky symbol indicating that the bearer of the blue mark will aspire to many great things

Old soul child

Old soul speaks to someone wiser beyond their years and is inspired by the notion that the physical body is a shell, housing the spirit, and the spirit chooses to reincarnate over and over again to fulfill specific duties.

From the first time I held my son, I knew he was an old soul. My family used to giggle at his faint mustache, and when his grandmother was alive (his father's mother), she nicknamed him the "Tree Man" because he was fascinated by trees, always with his head staring up at their majestic green. While Elijah does not possess the physical, oft-perceived bright light of angels, the light too bright for human eyes to bear, his brilliance resembles a subtle, more subdued energy waiting to gift physical existence a wake-up call. Love and empathy, true compassion and caring breathe like an entity of their own, exhaling from his aura. His neurological differences, his variances from what some might consider the "norm," are gifts wrapped in luminosity, and disability knows not his name.

Here to show our human race a better way through unconventional displays of healing, learning, caring, teaching, and feeling. Yes, our autistic children are a force to be reckoned with, and that's not so bad, is it?

No, I say it's quite beautiful, love in its purest form. And it's the love our world so desperately needs.

Author's Note

While my story reflects a personal viewpoint, it may not reflect the beliefs of others. All I ask is that one keep an open mind to the possibilities of angelic influences.

Did you know: Nearly 7 out of 10 U.S. adults believe in angels?

Thanks for reading and for leaving your kind comments!

This is dedicated to my son Elijah, his departed twin sister, Ivy, and all of our Autistic children.

Thanks for stopping by! My name is Marilyn Glover. I am a spiritual writer, poet, and editor, currently working on my Jungian-inspired debut poetry collection.

When I'm not writing, I love spending time in nature, with my children, and my two adorable grandsons.