My mother had not appeared to me in my dreams since her death, until this morning, during the very last dream I had before Chaya came to wake me.
She and I were sitting chatting at a table, possibly drinking tea. We were having an ordinary conversation, about nothing I can remember. Then, she pointed to my little Magen David that I’d put around my neck (in real life) yesterday evening, and said, “Hey, what’s that?”
And then I woke up.
I never told her about my conversion… she was definitely a Jew-hater. I think this had to do with the fact that her own family converted from Judaism to Roman Catholicism a couple of generations before her. Perhaps they felt they had to try extra hard to be good catholics.
white pebble 