I was pregnant, but I drank during the early stages of the pregnancy, so the child was born with brain damage. Two friends sneaked into my hospital room at night and told me my baby was the next Messiah, and had to be cut from my stomach. So they cut him out, and we gave him the name of Lishka.
I went home with him, and the dream fast-forwards to when Lishka is ten years old. His head reached my stomach when he was standing, but his legs were very short. He wore thick glasses and never spoke, but smiled at everyone and would help anyone if they were in trouble.
At one point, Alan and I took Lishka to a retreat in the mountains. I woke up in the middle of the night and wandered through corridors while they were still sleeping. I reached the end of one hallway, where someone had pushed open a window and was climbing through. I looked, and saw it was a little girl, a bit younger than Lishka. She had her body halfway through the window when she looked up at me, smiled, and said, "You're the woman made of light."