I could see my brother Chris (8-9 years old), dressed in white, sitting not far from me. At first he had his back to me, but then he turned around and looked me square in the face. He was wearing a broad smile, and I was struck by how happy he looked. His face verily beamed, his skin looked soft like that of a baby's.

It struck me that I hadn't seen Chris in quite a while, and when I saw him, an idea came to me. I knew I had been talking with the other members of my dream group – Donna, Jacobs and Barford – about the idea of making contact with a supernatural being in our dreams. I realized that since Chris was actually dead, he must himself be a supernatural being, and it occurred to me that perhaps Chris could be the one we could all look for. But almost immediately I rejected that idea. My other dream partners didn't know Chris, didn't even know what he looked like. I could, of course, send them pictures, but I knew that likewise wouldn't work. If anything, the best I would then be able to hope for would be that my other dream partners would start dreaming about someone in their own past who had died. But that wasn't the same thing, and I knew that wouldn't work.

Still I was happy to see Chris, happy to see that he looked so well. I remembered I had often thought about writing a book of just all the dreams in which Chris had appeared, there had been so many. But I had strayed away from that concept. Now I wondered if it might not be a good idea to think about that idea once again.

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