I had a beautiful dream last night.A little boy picked up a book on the street.A few pages were ripped off.I could see how excited he was. I had a conversation with him. Then I met a grown man, who looked so familiar.I woke up to this vivid dream, smiling.
I eventually finished reading "You can't be neutral on a moving train" by Howard Zinn. I feel connected to everything he said in the book.A great teacher he was.Reading it felt like I was sitting right in front of him, listening to his every word.
The boy was the same grown man I saw in my dream. It was him.The book he picked up on the street was "Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar".There were no books at his home.The parents just couldn't afford to buy him any.
He taught me to be hopeful again, particularly in times of despair.