The Christmas Dream at the Window
A local resident drifts into a vivid, celestial vision of the Nativity, only to wake up back in North Yakima.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
I was sitting at the window, just at evening's pensive hour, out upon the shadow of the vast cathedral tower. The snow was there—no spot of green before me; chill and frosty was the air. I looked, and as I wondered—the tower seemed drawing near, until it seemed to reach me; my heart was filled with fear. An angel appeared and said, 'Come this very moment and a wondrous sight thou'lt see.' We soared upward, past the Atlantic, to a wretched shed where a babe lay with a lovely, radiant face. By his side knelt a lady, full of heavenly love. My angel guide deterred me from staying, saying we must go further. We saw a golden gateway, glittering like a million lights. As I looked, I recollected it was the infant's radiant face again. Then I heard, 'Merry Christmas, friends most dear!' and woke up. I looked out from my window, and lo, behold! My wondrous journey had been made while I dreamed—right here in Yakima!
“My wondrous journey had been made while I dreamed—right here in Yakima!”
This piece offers a rare, gentle window into the spiritual life of 1891 Yakima. It reminds us that even as the town was being built into a commercial hub of irrigation and rail, its residents were still deeply engaged in the intimate, private traditions of storytelling and holiday reflection.
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