We were high, we were happy, we were fulfilled. It was just the final hours of our Gather the Women Gathering, and time to unweave the dream frame that Penny had inspired. As Mary and I stood eyeing the same material, an African hanging, I knew she was going to need to own it. (As a matter of fact, it prognosticated her African travels). I moved around the circle until I spotted a piece of white eyelet lace. That would be mine. I started pulling on it to release it from the other weavings. I pulled and pulled. When it came free I had the softest ball of something in my hand. I held it up, and to my joy and surprise it was a baby's dress--sheer cotton, with bands of embroidery and tucks and tiny buttons at the neckline. I just crushed it to my heart, feeling so connected to its wearer, the little girl who had once worn it. Why on earth did someone give that up to weave into my dream?

Just before leaving the hotel Charlotte Kelly, who was in the bookstore said, Oh, I see you have my dress. Out of 300 women present, I had met the one person who could identify my precious treasure. It had been her grandmother's, and had been mended and mended with tiny invisible stitches to preserve it throughout the years.

My spiritual journey is a pilgrimage of following those who have gone before. The Little Dress was a connection between me, its wearer, and the spirit of the weaver who placed it on that frame. It has been woven into my own life, a symbol of beauty past and present and yet to come. The spirit of the Little Girl has become one with us in the Millionth circle. Penny, thank you for Weaving the Dream.