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A DREAM

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Aug 2, 1877

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 50, No. 6.

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A DREAM.

By Elizabeth Hutchins

I seemed to be in a large room, where many people were very busy at work, and talking freely. Their work and conversation did not interest me. At some distance from them, I was standing at a table, very busy about my work. The door opened quietly, and a stranger entered. I did not even look up to see him; for I felt sure that his business was not with me. Without taking my eyes off my work, however, I saw that his garment, which reached nearly to his feet, hung neatly and plainly about his person. He was tall, and his hair hung nearly to his shoulders.
Presently he stood near my side, with his head somewhat inclined, waiting for me to speak. He did not smile, but he had such a friendly, familiar look, that I was sure he was some near relative of mine. Wondering if a few years' absence could so have changed a brother, I asked, “Can this be Lewis?” He gently said, “No.” I felt that he must be as near as a brother or a sister, and again I asked. With evident marks of grief on his countenance, the answer was, “No.” There was no sign of displeasure or blame, but a sad, patient waiting for me to recognize him. I could not, but was still sure he was a dear friend. The stranger seemed almost convulsed with sorrow, as he said, “Do you not know your Brother that died for you?” I knew him then. All this time my hands had been busy with my work, though my mind was diverted from it. My hands were free now; I raised them, exclaiming, “My Saviour, O my Saviour,” and throwing my arms around him, I pleaded that he would forgive all my sins, and begged the Father to forgive me for my Saviour's sake.
I awoke with a sense of the pity and compassion of our loving Saviour, believing that he is often grieved because we are so absorbed with the cares of the world as even for a time to forget him; and that often when in sadness we long for his presence, he is near to comfort us, and we know him not. Oh! what a kind Saviour we have! I want to love him more and serve him better. I long to hear his voice proclaim, “Behold I make all things new.”
ELIZABETH HUTCHINS.
Sandusky Co., Ohio.