I did know her. Yes, that beautiful face was my mother's, and my
heart was full of delight. That my mother could see me, and love me,
from the far heavens, was like a revelation to me. And often, on
other mornings, I awakened and looked through the very same branches
of the tree, out into the far sky, and thought to see my mother's
face shining through the window and watching over her lonely,
sleeping child. But my fancy never again conjured up the vision.
Fancy! What is fancy? If one could but understand, could grasp the
phantom and mystery of life! And above all, if one could but
understand what heaven is!

When I was a child, heaven was to me a peopled place, a wonderful
reality; and I remember a dream that I had--what a strange dream it
was! For I went to heaven, and I saw a shining One, sitting on a
throne, and many beautiful ones were standing and seated around the
throne, and my father and mother were there; and they had crowns on
their heads, and held each other by the hand, and looked down upon
me so lovingly. I knew that it was my father, because my mother held
him by the hand, though my father died the day I was born, and I
stood before them in the great light of a Heavenly Presence, as such
a poor little earth-child, but I was happy, inexpressibly happy,
only they did not touch me; but I was not fit to be touched by such
soft, shining hands. And what was yet a greater joy than ever to see
my unknown father and mother on the other side of the throne, I saw
my brother, my dear, gentle, beautiful little brother, who, seven
years older than I, had loved and played with me on the earth. He
was clothed in white garments, and was grown from a child to a
youth, and was so full of a noble and beautiful grace. He smiled
upon me; he did not speak; none spoke. All was so still, and serene,
and bright, and beautiful. Next morning I awoke as if yet in my
dream, so vivid was the whole scene before me. I could have danced
and sung all day, "I have seen my father and mother and brother in
the heavenly courts." But what are dreams?

Yet, it is wonderful to go back to the dreams and thoughts of
childhood; they are so distinct; such living realities. I often
remember a speech I made in those far childish days. I was lying in
bed with a friend in the early gray morning. All at once I started
up and said--"Oh, how I wish I had lived in the days when Jesus
lived upon the earth!"

I was asked why? And I replied, "Because I coul