I Went: The Call, The Message Lost

I was asleep when I woke to a voice calling my name. I looked around. No one there. I left the bedroom and the call seemed to be coming from downstairs. I went downstairs and no one was there. The voice seemed to be coming from outside. I opened the door and went out on the porch. The call was coming from up the street. I went up to the corner of Madison Street. The voice was coming from down that street. So I walked down that way. I saw a bundle of newspapers waiting for the carrier to take them. On top of the pile, Jesus appeared, a mini-Jesus who looked just like the pictures of him in my Sunday School books. He said, “I
have something to tell you.” Then a car came down the street and he disappeared. I went home, and back to bed.

Was this a dream? If it was, it is the most vivid dream I ever had. I can still see all the details. I have never
forgotten. I have never forgotten not getting the message. It seems to me I have been seeking it ever since.

I was then a young child, I don’t know what age. I think I am still that age.

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