I dreamed, last night, of a leader among us who was always at the front--who carried our banner of freedoms on high. A leader who cherished our rights as free men. A leader who called and to whom we rallied.
I couldn't see the leader, because he was busy encouraging my friends; leading against our enemies, but I knew he was there, because I heard his message loud and clear.
He spoke of that which is right. He spoke of rights for all men. He spoke of rights for the weak. He spoke of faith in our cause.
And when he spoke of the enemy, his anger broke forth and lashed us with fury--whipped us into a frenzy--warmed us with confidence.
I wanted to be part of his entourage. His message and it's power drew me forward until, without warning, I stood next to him.
Overwhelmed, I didn't know what to say.
"I was looking for you," I said, feebly, "I was looking for our leader." I felt ashamed that I had interrupted him. Caused him to pause in his important work.
And I was fearful of his answer.
Instead of the anger I expected, he looked upon me with peaceful eye and said,
"Never forget--I am He!"
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