[CHAPTER IV.]
“WHO OF US CAN SAY, WHICH IS FAIRER, THE VISIONS OF HOPE, OR MEMORY? THE ONE MAKES ALL THINGS POSSIBLE, THE OTHER MAKES ALL THINGS REAL.”
In the holy hush of that September afternoon, Aunt Kitty told me of a vision that she had, during the middle 60’s.
It was my last talk with her, and she seemed so impressed with the memory of it, that she laid aside her peach peeling, and gave her mind, and soul, to the subject so dear to her heart.
She said: “Some people call them dreams, but I call them visions. Ever since God spoke peace to my soul, I had prayed for religious liberty for my people; so great was my desire in this particular direction, that it seemed as a heavy weight that was bowing me down.
“But one night, about midnight, the burden seemed to be lifted from me. The deep darkness drifted away, and it seemed that the sun shone everywhere, and in a certain direction, I saw a long grassy slope stretch far away before me.
“I could not tell at first, what it meant, for I saw nothing but space. By and by, a small table appeared, and seemed to come nearer and nearer.
“I looked away, and wondered, and then I looked again, and a Bible was on the table.