Once upon a dream

 Have you ever heard of the dreamer girl?

She lives in a world, so far away.

Have you ever read the dreamer boy?

He plays in a world, so distant.

When my other used to sing that song, I thought she was being funny. It was easy then, you know? It was easy to dream and expect rainbows, so I never understood why Mother thought dreaming was far or distant. But one day, I dreamt of Father coming home with the toy he promised to buy me – dad never came home that night. 

That was a dream shattered, but I moved on. Then I dreamt of coming first in class like I always do, but the class bully did instead.

Then I dreamt of love through eternity, but Johnson said he wasn’t interested anymore – didn’t even tell me why. I dreamt of a beast who will become my prince charming, but nobody came. I dreamt a million times; I was disappointed a million times.

So when on graduation day, the principal asked me, “what’s your dream in the next five years, Sharon?” Don’t blame me for sighing before saying, “Sir, I’m just trying to make it till next Friday – there’s no dream here.”

Everyone looked at me like I was drunk or something, but I caught a familiar sigh on Mother’s face. She was awfully quiet on the ride home, but I was too tired to care.

“Sharon, have you ever heard of the dreamer girl?”

“Yes. In your songs.”

“Anywhere else?”

“No. Just your songs.”

“How about in your life and mine?”

“What do you mean?”

Then mother brought out a recorder and played a beautiful song I’d never heard before – it was her voice. She wasn’t just the singer; she was playing the guitar too. The guitar; there’s one in the garage downstairs, but it never even looked like it had been played before.

That was a dream, Sharon. A dream deferred. Life hits hard all the time, but dreams hit harder – and never leave us. I know people have disappointed you and aborted your dreams in the past, but that was the challenge, Sharon. You let other people determine the success or otherwise of your dreams.

Now, people are important to growth and success, but it all burns down to what you do with your dreams. What do you do, Sharon? What you do.

What will you do?

Written by Ogundeji Theophilus

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