There Are Some Dreams You Just Never Forget
A Memory
by Deacon Bruce Olsen
Doctors who specialize in such things tell us that the average person has over 1,460 dreams a year, which is about four dreams every night. Most dreams are immediately or quickly forgotten. But there are some dreams that you just never forget. Maybe the dream was so outrageous or funny that you actually wake up laughing, and thinking about it years later still makes you chuckle. Some dreams frighten us, and even after we wake from them, these nightmares still terrorize us. And even, years later, when they're recalled, they still have the power to give us the chills. But some dreams are memorable because of their beauty and because of the significance and meaning they've brought to our lives. The dream holds a very special place in our memory and can be recalled in vivid detail.
I had such a dream in May of 1985. The dream began fancifully, perhaps even ridiculously comical. I was on a street corner in the Bronx, and a man near me kept assaulting everyone who passed by with a taser. I shouted at the man to stop being so annoying, but I guess, even in my dreams, I’m not a very intimidating person, because my command did nothing to stop him. Soon afterward, giant pods began to descend from the sky, and once reaching the ground, they transformed into earthly shapes. So astonished I was at this, that I immediately, for some reason, decided that I needed to seek out the bishop to inform him of this remarkable occurrence.
The dream continued for a considerable time and involved my quest to reach the bishop. Individuals, gangs and armies violently thwarted my every move, and ultimately, I gave up my attempts and decided to return to the Bronx street corner where my adventure first began.
But when I got there, no longer was it the bustling urban setting of crowds and cars, of tasers and pods; it had been transformed into the most beautiful garden imaginable. Every tree, bush and flower was in full bloom. I turned to my left and saw a wall, high and long, made up entirely of flowers. As I surveyed this breathtaking sight, I was amazed to discover a tabernacle in the middle of the flower-wall. After pausing to take in this wonderful and wonder-filled scene, something moving caught my eye to my right. And when I turned, I saw a vast exquisite green meadow. And there, floating above the meadow, was Mary, the Blessed Mother. She appeared as she did in Fatima, in a dazzling white mantle and veil, but with one exception. The veil she wore, which cascaded from her head to her feet, had golden roses decorating its edge. These roses were not imprinted on the fabric, nor were they embroidered or appliqués, but were actual, real, live gold roses.
Mary floated for some time above the meadow, and gradually came nearer and nearer to me. Her beauty cannot be described, and I stood speechless at the apparition I was beholding. Then, slowly, she began to move away. I thought to myself, "Bruce! This is the Mother of the Son of God!! Say SOMETHING!!!" And I shouted out to her, "Don't forget to send the children to me!" And she chuckled and said, “Oh, don't worry, I won't forget." She then faded into the mist of the meadow.
I stood mesmerized for some time, still staring into the meadow in utter amazement of what I had just witnessed. Then, something caught my eye. It was a man kneeling on the ground to my right. At first glance, I thought it was a gardener, until he looked up at me. "You're St. Joseph!" I shouted in excitement. And, once the recognition was made, he, too, disappeared and my dream ended.
"Don't forget to send the children to me!" What did that mean? I was just finishing three months as a long-term substitute teacher in one school and then six months in another. And as the school year was ending, I didn’t have a position lined up for the next year. So my request to Mary was a plea to be able to work with children, and, hopefully, to have a positive impact on them.
"Oh, don’t worry. I won’t forget!" And she didn’t. For thirty-seven years I had the privilege of ministering to the children she sent me as a teacher and deacon - students, altar servers, Confirmation candidates, Knights of Columbus Squires, and those who participated in Youth Ministry. I only hope I did Mary proud, and those she sent me, I sent back to her, more faith filled, more dedicated to, and more in love with her and her Son.
And although I'm no longer teaching, and currently away from my diaconate ministry, Mary is ever faithful to her promise; she is still sending the children to me. She has sent me Blessed Carlo Acutis, Blessed Rolando Rivi, and Venerable Matteo Farina to be present to me, to inspire me, to comfort me, to pray for me. Three teenagers, all from Italy. One 14, another 15, the other 18. One died of leukemia, one of brain cancer, the other was martyred - shot in the head and heart. How did these boys get it right at such an early age? These were teenagers with normal teenage interests - friends and soccer and music, and computers and travel, yet they made God paramount in their lives; and the Mass, the Eucharist, the Rosary, Confession, prayer, and virtues such as compassion, charity, chastity, and service to others, became their passion. Each one knew suffering, yet each one united their pain to the Cross, and transformed their suffering into redemptive suffering, offering it as gift to God and gift for others. It is these three that Mary has sent to me. Think of it, an adult (ever young at heart but technically a senior citizen) admiring to the point of desiring to emulate the life, the faith, the example of three teenage boys. What a reversal! In the past, Mary sent children to me for me to be their teacher; she has sent Carlo, Rolando and Matteo to me for me to be their student! What lessons they have taught me! But more than just my teachers, they have become my friends. We have a reciprocal relationship - I pray for their canonization and they intercede to God for me. And in the acute solitude that has become my life in the past year and a half, together with Jesus, Mary and Joseph, St. Therese, Padre Pio, St. Jude and my Guardian Angel, they have become great company for me. Sometimes my living room is so crowded that it's hard to find a place to sit down!
Yes, there are some dreams you just never forget, and I thank God to have been so blessed to have had this one. There are some dreams you just never forget - the memory is kept alive because a Mother, thirty-eight years later, is still faithful to her promise.
