Last night I dreamed that I was standing outside of Saint Ann’s Church where my highschool graduation ceremony took place. I waited there under its arches–as I had with my cap and gown–only now I pushed a stroller.
Inside was a baby girl, who wasn’t mine.
I found photos of her parents in the basket below and hid them so that no one would see. We were in danger and this baby needed care.
I set out to find her mother, heading west, on foot, toward a secluded destination.
There at the bottom of spiral staircase, a novitiate waited for me at the opening of a cave for monastic nuns.
Relief swept through me as this was the point where mother and daughter would be reunited. And though the baby’s diaper needed changing and she was hungry, I was sad to let her go.