Regarding “Love from beyond,” Jan. 17, Page 31, and “A Christmas story (well, sort of),” Dec. 20, Page 2:

What follows is my story concerning the communion of saints. Almost 50 years ago we lost our eldest child, a 14-year-old son. At that time, we still had a small flock of sheep on the ranch. During calving and lambing season, my husband was working day and night to save the newborn animals. I told him that I would check on the sheep at 2 a.m. so he could get a night’s sleep.

It was a frosty night. Being a novice at this, I said a silent prayer asking for our son to help. I no sooner asked than I heard a brand new lamb bleat — all was well. That was my first experience, but was by no means my last. I am a firm believer in the communion of saints.

Marie O’Leary