[Critique Group 1] Leonard's comments on DeAnna's sub

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

This short piece tells a remarkablestory. 



I couldn’t  find any stylistic or grammar issues.  



The story held my interest. 



It is told with an  economy of words.  



It is reminiscent of a near deathexperience. 



Did you have any idea that you mightbe close to death before the dream?  



Was there any emotional content tomeeting the  man.   



It doesn’t sound like you had achoice as to whether you would stay in his presence. 



Did you want to?  



It sounds like you had  no difficulty in  staying on this plain. 




 


DeAnna sub for August 21




 


A Dream?



By DeAnna (Quietwater) Noriega



 



               When I was ten years old, my parents moved away from our people living on the IsabellaReservation in Michigan.  We ended up in southern California in a rentalhouse with no phone.  That first winter I came down with a fever that keptme in bed for several days.  We didn't have a car for my mother to driveme to a doctor or money to spend on an office visit.  Our family car wasin use by our father.  He had a sales job which kept him from home forseveral days at a time.  When the fever was at its highest, I experienceda strange dream.  I was wandering through a lush garden.  Flowerswere in riotous profusion.  The air was redolent with their mingledscents.  I followed a flagstone path that brought me to a building. I stepped up onto the stoop and tapped shyly at the door.  It opened and afigure surrounded by light stood there.  His clothes were brilliant whiteand his face shone with too much light for me to see it clearly.  I hadbeen totally blind for over two years.  Still, in dreams I couldsee.  A gentle hand reached out to stroke back my hair.  A soft voicesaid, "Its not time yet, little one.  I have work for you to do. Goback now for awhile."



               Did I see Jesus?  I don't know.  Was it just a fever dream? Only God knows that answer for certain. I have always felt that I am a child ofGod.  I am just as he made me with all of the imperfections inherent inthat state.  I don't doubt that god can put my life to good service, evenwithout vision.  I don't question why I am meant to be blind any more thanI question why I have dark hair or stand five foot one inches tall.  Whatever the challenges may be, I know he walks with me to help me deal withthem.  



 



 



DeAnna Quietwater Noriega



Cell: 573-544-3511



Email: dqnoriega at gmail.com



Author of Fifty Years of Walkingwith Friends



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