A little while back I had a rather unusual dream: I was walking along the boardwalk of a beach too clean, pleasant, and altogether wholesome to be either Brighton Beach or Coney Island (the only beaches I remember visiting as a child). Suddenly, a bearded man, about my age (late 30's - early 40's) approached me and extended his hand. It was my old best friend from 6th Grade, Christian. I greeted him happily, as I somehow instantly recognized him, despite having not seen him in nearly three decades. We chatted pleasantly for a minute or so before going our separate ways (I have no memory of what was said). The dream abruptly ended, and I found myself awake in bed, puzzled at the subject of the dream.
I met Christian at the beginning of 6th Grade and we soon became fast friends, bonding over a shared interest (and slightly above average proficiency) in drawing. Before long, we were truly best friends, frequenting each other's homes, frittering many weekend hours away in our neighborhood's playgrounds. Christian was the first friend I ever had for whom I had real respect, as he was by far the most intelligent kid I'd ever known up to that point, and also an all-around well-behaved, good-mannered young man, a far cry from most of our peers - a far cry from myself, to be honest. Looking back with many years of hindsight, and with the eyes of a father, I can easily say that, between the two of us, Christian was the good influence and, I, the bad.
Like many childhood friendships, ours was as brief as it was intense. At the close of the school year, he left to spend the summer with his family in their native Romania. We each ended up going to different Junior High schools. We said our goodbyes on a sweltering late June afternoon, and never saw each other again.
In the years that have elapsed, Christian would periodically appear in my thoughts, as any of my childhood friends might occasionally do, as I ruminate frequently on the past, and (being a melancholic) am inordinately prone to indulging in nostalgia. But I don't think Christian ever "stuck out" in my thoughts any more than any of my other childhood chums; certainly, I don't think I had thought of him within three or more months before having that dream about encountering him again on the boardwalk, which is what made the dream so odd to me. Why a dream about Christian?
Spurred on by the dream, I decided to look my childhood friend up on the internet, something I'd done over the years with other friends, but never with Christian. After a few minutes of perusing, I discovered something I truly did not expect to: Christian had died close to twenty years earlier. A little more digging confirmed that this wasn't someone else with the same name. Christian, who had appeared to me as a man of about 40 in the dream, had, in fact, died at the age of 21. The cause of death was not given in any of the websites I perused.
Like me, Christian was a Catholic raised in the chaos of the American postconciliar Church. He graduated (with honors, it turns out) from a local Catholic high school. As I said, he was a much more well-mannered and refined young man than I was, but the bad catechesis our generation received was an impediment to living and thinking with sanctity for all of us, and I know I shudder to think of what would have become of my soul had I died at the age of 21. But I just can't shake the feeling, mindful as I am that dreams should never be treated as oracles, that this dream, which was the impetus for my learning of his death, was meant to to get me praying for my departed friend Christian, and so I have been regularly doing so since.
His name was Christian Daniel (I omit his surname for reasons of prudence), and if you could spare a prayer for the repose of his soul, I would be most grateful. Thank you and God bless you for your charity.
Topic: An Unusual Dream - A Soul in Need of Prayer? (Read 638 times)