Here is another true story from Carole Bowman's book about experiencing the Interlife (Life Between Life), Return from Heaven.
A woman she interviewed told this story about her two-year-old son, Alex:
Alex had just turned two when this happened. I was tucking him into bed and he was beginning to doze off to sleep. Suddenly he bolted up in his bed, seemed to focus on something on the opposite wall of his room, and began screaming and crying. His sudden outburst caught me totally off guard because I couldn't see anything that could have triggered it. My mother rushed in from the other room when she heard Alex wailing.
We asked him, "What's wrong, what's wrong?"
Alex sobbed, "The man, the man. He's got a gun. Mom, and he's going to shoot me."
I tried to hold him and reassure him there was no man in his bedroom and he was safe, but I couldn't get through to him. He was so scared he tried to crawl backward into his headboard. He continued to wail and cry, fixated on something in front of him only he could see. My mother and I kept repeating, "What's wrong? What's wrong?"
He cried, "He shot me."
Hoping I could figure out what was going on. I joined him in his vision. I said, "He shot you? Are you dead?"
He said, "Not yet. That's why he's getting the knife. Oh, Mama, he's cutting my throat." He screamed and struggled and held his throat for what seemed like a couple of minutes.
My mother and I were completely baffled. We held him, but he still didn't seem to be aware of us. I was beside myself with worry. Here was my sweet little two-year-old totally absorbed in this horrible scene. I was desperate to figure out where this was coming from. I quickly scanned in my mind all the movies he had seen to recall if he had been exposed to these scary images before-he's only two and I knew everything he had seen. But I was drawing a blank.
As Alex continued to sob and wail, I tried to get more information from him: "What does the room look like?"
"It has wood walls."
"Do you drive a car, truck, or horse?" I asked, trying to put this into some time frame.
"I have a horse."
I was beginning to think he might be remembering something from the past-maybe from another life. At the same time I was trying to snap him out of it. My mother and I shook him gently every few minutes, saying, "Come on, Alex. Look at me. There's no man. You're here, safe with us." But he didn't respond at all. He kept crying and staring at the same spot on the wall.
Then, after about twenty minutes, his state suddenly changed. It was as if someone had flipped a switch. He quickly relaxed and settled down into the bed, and strangely enough, he was beaming with the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. He wasn't focusing on the wall anymore, but he was still in some sort of trance.
Calmly, and with a mature tone to his voice that totally surprised me, he said, "Oh, it's going to be okay. He's going to be my son and I'll teach him not to hurt people and not to shoot guns. And I'll teach him to love instead of hurt."
After he said that, Alex looked very content and totally relaxed. With a big smile on his face, he began to close his eyes. I said, "Okay, Alex, why don't you just go to sleep." My mother and I tucked him in, and he went right to sleep, the smile still on his face. That was the whole thing. That was it.
My mother and I retreated to the living room. Tears were streaming out of her eyes. We sat and hugged each other and both said over and over again, "Oh, my God! That was so beautiful!" I was touched more deeply by this than anything I had ever experienced before. I was so glad my mother was there too as a second witness to this extraordinary lesson and to remind me later that it really happened.
I've always been open in a cerebral sort of way to the concept of reincarnation. My attitude used to be that reincarnation might be true and it might not, but since I didn't have any personal experience with it, I didn't know. I'm a skeptical, doubting Thomas by nature, and I don't embrace an idea unless I can see concrete evidence to back it up. Yet here was this incredible wisdom coming from a two-year-old barely out of diapers. How could I deny what happened? It was so real, and nothing a two-year-old could come up with in his imagination-it went far deeper than that, far deeper than anything I've ever been taught or could imagine…My two-year-old, more than anyone else, has taught me about redemption, hope, and the true meaning of compassion.
The next morning Alex had absolutely no memory of what happened the night before or the man with the gun and the knife. He showed no effects from the experience. He was fine. In fact he was more than fine: That night marked the end of his asthma. Since he was five months old he had been taking prescription medication for his asthma, and I remember clearly the last time he needed a treatment was the night before he saw this past life…
My mother and I were completely changed by what we saw that night, and apparently Alex was too.