When a young mother loses her three-year-old son to cancer, there is no consolation. When she does not believe in an afterlife and feels the little one simply goes into the ground alone, the pain is indescribable. One such young mother and I became friends while I was caring for her son.
No words, no books or grief counseling could bring peace to this mother’s heart. But oh, the number of prayers that were said on her behalf, begging God to comfort her in some way that we could not. On the first anniversary of his death, she called to tell me of a dream she had the night before.
In the dream, she was walking in deep sand. The further she walked, the lighter her steps became until she was walking on top of the sand. In the distance, she could see a small canvas tent with a light coming from within. When she reached it, she pulled back the flap and sitting just inside, she saw a beautiful woman holding a little boy.
The grieving mother was Jewish, you see, and in Hebrew scripture the tent signifies the dwelling place of God. How much more intimately could God touch this mother’s heart than by allowing her to find peace, in her own tradition through this wonderful dream.
She now knew for certain that her little boy was safe and loved.
