Musings of a sixty-something Catholic laywoman who has made The Promise to participate as a Pauline Cooperator in Fr. James Alberione's vision of evangelization through the new means of social communication.
Or, maybe I don't want to see it. I dreamed tonight that I was watching it, seeing the German children killed by their Nazi parents as the end drew near. Then I was in the movie myself, and fleeing with my child from a Nazi bunker where the Goebbels and the Hitlers were mass suiciding and killing their offspring. I was let go because I was not German, nor was my child. We ran out and into the arms of the liberating American GI's. Then my daughter said, "I want to see stars" and the bombing began. Concrete blew up around us. A black woman GI took us in hand and brought us back to where the liberating forces were aiding the fleeing refugees.I'm not sure the movie could be as awful and as intense as was that dream. The blessings (and curse) of an active and remembered dream life.
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