Hardly ten minutes after he left us, there was a knock on the door. Who was it? His father. He asked us to forgive him for disturbing us at such an inconvenient hour. Something had happened which he absolutely had to share with us. “Did you dream something?” I asked him.
“Yes, how did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t know for sure—I simply had a hunch.”
“You guessed correctly. Just think! In my dream, it was morning as I got out of bed and came into my living room. There sat my brother, as real as I am standing here. He smiled at me and said: ‘I have come, and I want to see if I should remain.’ In pure joy, I woke up. Now tell me, is that a phenomenon, or not?”
“A miracle? No, to me it is something more like a completely natural occurrence.”
“After our conversation yesterday, I too felt comfortable about all of this. Yet in today’s awakening, instantly after the dream, a thought came to me—almost as if this thought itself were to be the continuation of the dream. Do you know what my brother said to me in the previous dream I described to you?”
“That he would send you a sign of his forgiveness.”
“Now then, do you recall the name of the child whom you met yesterday, the girl whom my son constantly talks about?”
“Schamah, the Forgiveness!”
My wife swiftly joined in: “Yes, that’s true! That’s exactly right! It might be—“