IN THIS Department will be given interpretations of dreams and visions of those needing to know their inner meaning. We reserve for it only those of special interest and helpfulness.

SO MUCH has happened since I last wrote you—and is still happening—that I hardly know where to begin. In April my eldest son, twelve years old, contracted scarlet fever at school. An epidemic of it having swept our community, and when he began to recover, our ten year old boy came down with it and with measles at the same time.

The day before we were released from quarantine, I collapsed with a staphylococcic throat and acute pulse. (I haven’t had a cold in years, and refused to yield to this one, until my heart gave out, when I could no longer control matters.)

The next few days my life hung on a balance, and I knew it. I never lost consciousness, but I really had no feelings as to whether this was my own death manifestation or not.

On Sunday, April 28th, I lay in the quietness of my sick room and my sons were asleep in another room. I was unable to sleep, as is common with persons who have just come very near death, and ice bags, digitalis and sleeping potions together availed nothing in the doctor’s efforts to have me “get some sleep.” I realized this and wondered why.

Gradually I became aware of voices singing softly, at a distance it seemed, mixed voices singing what seemed somewhat like hymns. My first thought was, that some neighbor’s radio was bringing some church music over the air, or that some group in the neighborhood was having a Sunday evening of religious music. But my windows were all closed tight as my nurse was caring my breath with an inhalator.

Then I began listening in earnest, and seemed to know the words of the songs, moving my lips with the invisible singers. (They were not the hymns I had learned in any church). About the time I began to feel that this was no music of earth, I saw—with my eyes wide open in the darkness—the chancel of a most beautiful cathedral. The background was in dazzling white Gothic arches, and before it were beautiful green evergreen trees. Three broad and wide steps led from the chancel-rail up to a beautiful throne-like chair carved as was the background.

I saw all this as though I stood at the back of the church in the center aisle. On either side of me, I felt the presence of a great company of brothers and sisters, all singing in the muted tones I had been hearing for some time. I saw myself walking with measured tread down this aisle and ascending the three steps, approaching the chair, where I knelt.

For sometime I saw no more, and then I saw a grove of evergreen trees, of the richest and most lustrous green ever, with these same companions wandering about under the trees, continuing their singing. The trees were interlaced with tiny shining red beads, about the size of cranberries. This