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So, most folks have seemed to like my humble little book, but one person who really, truly did not like it at all, complained, among other failings, that it had way too many dreams in it. (As Mr. Lincoln said, You cannot please 'em all.) (Mr. Lincoln himself had a quite spectacular precognitive dream/nightmare in which he went to his own funeral...he was shot by Mr. Booth the following day.)

Anyhow, this unhappy reader really got quite sick of the dreams in the book. But it's a story about immortality, ultimately, and the thin line between this life and the next, and how we can cross over that line in certain circumstances...chiefly, and most commonly, probably, in our dreams.

An old best friend died a number of years ago; I'd lost contact with him, and often wondered how he was. He came to me in a dream right at Christmas, and we sat at a nice cafe table on the dream plane and had a great talk, catching up. He was glowing with health (in real life he was quite ill); he was radiantly happy, and there was a lovely golden light all around his head and shoulders. When I woke I thought, "I don't know where David is, but he's happier and healthier than I've ever seen him."

Then just at New Year's an old mutual friend called, who never called me. I said immediately, "I had this great dream about David." She got quiet and said, "Tell me the dream." I told her. Then she let me know that David had died on Christmas Eve. I have no doubt but that he came to me on the dream plane to let me know (he knew I'd hear the news of his death) that he was fine--better, in fact, than ever. We had an excellent visit, and it was a real comfort.

Dreamy, how our dreams open all these portals for the soul... Here, let me tell you another one...
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