It's not much, just an old cardboard cigar box that I discovered hidden amongst the things that I moved.
When I was young and had learned my ABCs, my mother gave me the box. She said that I should write down my dreams and aspirations and place them inside. "In time," she explained, " the box will work its magic and, with your help, those dreams may come true."
It's been many decades since I opened that cigar box. Inside were little scraps of paper in a child's hand, written in crayon and pencil. There were many things that I dreamed of having and the person I wished to become: A cowboy, fireman, soldier; careers that little boys in the 1950s aspired to.
My biggest dream was to have a new bicycle, not the old rusted hand-me-down that my uncle had as a kid. I knew that wasn't going to happen, my parents were not in a financial position at that point in life to buy frivolous things. But I placed that dream in the box anyway.
As the years moved on, I fulfilled some of my dreams. I was a soldier in the U.S. Army and I was a volunteer fireman in our small farming community in east Texas. But one slip of paper stood out, "When I grow up I want to be a cowboy and have cows and horses." As it turned out, I may not have become a true cowboy but I owned a ranch and farm and raised cattle and horses.
Oh yes, about that bicycle. When I left the farm and moved into my home in Oklahoma a couple of months ago, a neighbor was moving out. He gave me a nearly new Trek FX touring bicycle that he couldn't take with him. I ride it every morning through the streets of the city and imagine myself a kid again. The magic of the dream box is still at work.
It may all be coincidence but without dreams there is nothing to hang our hat on and we find ourselves blown about like tumbleweed. We suffer these days from too many people without dreams. My mother, God rest her soul, knew that your dreams determine your destiny. I like to think that with mom's help, and the dream box, I became what I aspired to be.
My wife said that I should add more dreams to the box. I told her no. I'm content in my old age. I have a lovely home, my health, and above all a loving wife. There is nothing more the dream box can offer.
When I was young and had learned my ABCs, my mother gave me the box. She said that I should write down my dreams and aspirations and place them inside. "In time," she explained, " the box will work its magic and, with your help, those dreams may come true."
It's been many decades since I opened that cigar box. Inside were little scraps of paper in a child's hand, written in crayon and pencil. There were many things that I dreamed of having and the person I wished to become: A cowboy, fireman, soldier; careers that little boys in the 1950s aspired to.
My biggest dream was to have a new bicycle, not the old rusted hand-me-down that my uncle had as a kid. I knew that wasn't going to happen, my parents were not in a financial position at that point in life to buy frivolous things. But I placed that dream in the box anyway.
As the years moved on, I fulfilled some of my dreams. I was a soldier in the U.S. Army and I was a volunteer fireman in our small farming community in east Texas. But one slip of paper stood out, "When I grow up I want to be a cowboy and have cows and horses." As it turned out, I may not have become a true cowboy but I owned a ranch and farm and raised cattle and horses.
Oh yes, about that bicycle. When I left the farm and moved into my home in Oklahoma a couple of months ago, a neighbor was moving out. He gave me a nearly new Trek FX touring bicycle that he couldn't take with him. I ride it every morning through the streets of the city and imagine myself a kid again. The magic of the dream box is still at work.
It may all be coincidence but without dreams there is nothing to hang our hat on and we find ourselves blown about like tumbleweed. We suffer these days from too many people without dreams. My mother, God rest her soul, knew that your dreams determine your destiny. I like to think that with mom's help, and the dream box, I became what I aspired to be.
My wife said that I should add more dreams to the box. I told her no. I'm content in my old age. I have a lovely home, my health, and above all a loving wife. There is nothing more the dream box can offer.