This poem contributed by @biginlar
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Last Night I dreamt a dream

As a real as dream as I ever had dreamed.
I was in church, sitting on the stand
With my prepared talk in my hand.

The Sacrament was being passed
In the usual way it was passed.
Except there was a man,
He was walking around
Stopping at certain people
And holding out his hand.

I did not understand.

As he came up to the stand
He went to the Bishop.
The man said to the Bishop,
As he held out his hand,
“Be healed.”

There, in this man’s hand
Was a piece of bread.
From winced it came I do not know,
But it was no magic show.

The Bishop partook.

To others to on the stand,
The man went.
Each time it was the same,
“Be healed”

And they partook.

Then the man stopped in front of me.
He held out his hand.
There in his hand was a piece of bread for me.
With a loving voice he said,
“Be healed.”

I did not partake.

It was not the normal way the bread
Was passed week after week.
It was strange and new to me.

Then I awoke.

Though it was very early in the morning,
I stayed awake in my bed wondering:
What would have happen if I had taken
the gift that was offered to me?

Would I have seen this man’s face?
Would it have been the face of the Savior?
I think,
Yes.

I think that He would have also brought
The water to those same
Who partook of the Bread.
Maybe this time even anointing our heads,
And saying to us,
“Be made whole.”

So now as I take the sacrament,
I think about:
Where I am taking the sacrament from?
Am I just taking it from the deacon’s tray,
Or am I reaching out and receiving it from my Savior?

– “I Dreamt a Dream” – by Larry Hollist
Image credit – “Sacrament Meeting” – by Doc Christensen

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