Dreams Come True

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Dreams Come True “Dear Heavenly Father, we thank thee for this day. We hope that our party won’t be a disaster and that we won’t have to sell our house and we won’t have to sell my blankie. Please help our dreams come true.” Ashley finished up her prayer and said Amen. At four years of age, she’s a pretty bright little star in our world. Smart, intelligent, witty beyond her years and coping bravely with Cerebral Palsy. Nothing keeps this child down. Her prayer intrigued me. I had no idea what party she was talking about and was reluctant to bring it up because I thought it might have something to do with her birthday party, two months in the future. I didn’t feel like getting into another planning session. With four years of mortality under her belt, this girl knows her stuff; preparation, preparation, preparation. She is nothing, if not thorough. So I asked her another question about her prayer. “Honey, what did you mean when you asked Heavenly Father to help our dreams come true?” I queried her as she lay on my bed preparing to fall asleep as I worked on a column for a newspaper that was due in the morning. Sleepily, she said it was for the dream I had this morning; the one about me being in a restaurant with my Mom and having lunch. She wanted Heavenly Father to make it come true for me. My heart did a little tightening inside my chest as I listened to her sweet innocent voice tell me matter-of-factly that she really wanted my dream to come true. Oh, how I did too. This morning, I’d gotten up around 6:30 for a bit and then felt so sluggish that I’d crawled back into bed, hoping for at least another hour of sleep. While I was sleeping, I had a very vivid dream about sitting down at a restaurant with my mother. We were having lunch together. I never saw any food, I don’t recall much except that she was holding my hand across the table and smiling at me; pretty blond hair and sparkling green eyes. We were talking, but I couldn’t say what about. My heart was happy just being there with her. Then noises from the real world intruded and woke me up from my dream. Kids came pouring in from the other room onto our bed. Pouring is the correct term, as there were six of them; four mine, two spending the week with us. Six hungry tummies needing nourishment and not being quiet about their needs. As I slowly waded to the surface of consciousness, I mumbled that I wished they hadn’t woken me, because in my dream I’d been with my mother and she was so happy. I desperately wanted to close my eyes and recapture that moment with her. Of course, I wasn’t able to do so. Mom’s been gone to the other side now for sixteen long months. I’ve mourned her loss every day since. “I really want your dream to come true Mommy. I know you miss Nanny.” This little tyke knows a lot—probably more than she ought, as evidenced by the rest of her supplication to the Lord about not losing our house or having to sell her blankie. Her precious, worn and tattered Blankie, given to her by Nanny, is a vital part of this little angel’s life. I’m pretty sure where she got the idea that we may have to sell our house. Laid off from Boeing for the past year has been a trial for us financially and though we’ve attempted to shield our children from the realities of our circumstances, bits and pieces have seeped through to them. We may have to sell our house, but we will never relinquish the sacred blankie of Ms. Ashley Rose. Somehow I think I’d be sadder if we lost the blanket.
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