“One morning, after what seemed like a long night’s dreamless sleep, I awoke. But it was much too early to get up. So I lay thinking—or more truly, I hope, being thought into, as Mr. Wingfold says. Many of the most beautiful things I had read, scenes of our Lord’s life on earth, and thoughts of the Father, came and went. I had no desire to sleep again, or any feeling of drowsiness, but in the midst of fully conscious thought, I found myself in some other place. I knew only that there was firm ground under my feet and a soft white radiance of light about me. Afterward I remembered branches of trees spreading high overhead, through which I saw the sky. But at the time I seemed not to take notice of what was around me. I was leaning against a form tall and grand, clothed from the shoulders to the ground in a white robe, full, and soft, and fine. It lay in thickly gathered folds, touched to whiteness in the radiant light, and the arms encircled without at first touching me.

“With sweet contentment my eyes went in and out of those radiant lines, feeling, though they were parts of his dress, that they were yet of himself. For I knew the form to be that of the heavenly Father, but I felt no trembling fear, no sense of painful awe—only a deep, deep worshipping, an unutterable love and confidence. ‘O Father!’ I said, not aloud, but low into the folds of his garment. Scarcely had I breathed the words when ‘My child!’ came whispered back, and I knew his head was bent toward me, and I felt his arms close round my shoulders. The folds of his garment wrapped around me and, with a soft sweep, fell behind me to the ground. Delight held me still for a while, and then I looked up to see his face, but I could not see past his chest. His shoulders rose far above my upreaching hands, for my head did not come much above his waist.

“And now came the most wonderful part of my dream. As I thus rested against him, near his heart, I seemed to see into it. And I was filled with a loving wonder, and an utterly blessed feeling of home, to the very core. I was at home—with my Father! I looked, it seemed, into a fathomless space, and yet a warm light as from a hearth-fire shone and played in ruddy glow, as upon cottage walls. I saw, gathered there, all human hearts. I saw them—yet I saw no forms. They were there—and yet they would be there. To my waking mind the words sound like nonsense, but in my dream the thing did not perplex me at all. With light beyond that of faith, for it was of absolute certainty, I saw them.