August 3, 2007
by Lonnie D. Story

I recently had a dream.  It was quite unusual for me.  First of all, most my dreams come at night while I am asleep.  However, this dream, although at night, wasn't the solemn ground of deep silence and repose.  This dream came in short but in great length in a vision of sorts and short in time but long in impact.  Thankfully, it was in a waking moment because it has always been a constant in my life that my nights are spent in dreams that are quite horrid.  Plain and simply, I usually have one to three nightmares per night.  It is a part of my life that I have come to accept.  I know why, I know how and it isn't worth discussing here.  This is for a different reason and purpose.  Why I have a "curse" of nightly nightmares is for God to explain to me when my last night turns to a day of eternal light.  In the interim, I have learned take no ill from them, they are common in place and out of time.
 
This dream is a unique dream for all the reasons above and then some.  This was a flight of fancy and fanciful thought in a ponderous mood far removed in soul from body.  A conversation of sorts most unusual.  An enlightening moment and one that only the mind can play party to and believe to be worth investigation.  But I will share it with you and you decide what you can redeem, claim or repute from this simplistic scenario of mental dances in the moment of unknowns in a time framed by the world as we know it now, no matter our age.
 
The dream is one of a conversation, simply put.  In this dream, I, I alone stood in a dark surrounding in a city-type environment.  Where I haven't a clue.  It could have been the city streets of New York where I had been in October last, Daytona Beach, Florida where daily pass.  It could have been Pasadena, California, one of my favorite places on the west coast or Magnolia Street in Macon, Georgia.  Maybe even Belgium, Wisconsin where I will be in a week or so.  The only thing I know is this vision, this dream and this conversation and what it meant and what is left to discover.  I believe the later is far greater than the former.
 
I bent to the lad and felt as though I were still far to over-pressing and daunting to impress the harmlessness of my closeness.  My only desire was to "connect."  I wanted this connection that is so very rare and one that I have had in times past and treasured like a black pearl in my back pocket worth more than a year's wages and only known to me but oh so carefully guarded with a sweated hand and fervent, frantic mind and darting eyes.  Eyes scouring the horizon for any intrusion that might even possibly or conceivably be a threat to the intrusted precious in my possession.
 
As I leaned in, I knew I should kneel down and bend to bow for this conversation.  This was one of those moments when we get put "in our place" by wisdom so simple and so "upside the head" that we take weeks to decipher it and a lifetime to puzzle it. 
 
"Hey there little buddy" I started as I knelt on the sidewalk face-to-face with this impressionable young man, all of maybe some five or six years of age.  I bent my body backward as far as I could and at the same time, I extended by right hand forward in a gentlemanly and manly manner full of strength, honor and trust.  Our hands grasped and we did the 1,2 and 3 shake.  Enough to say "let's talk."
 
"So what's your name partner?"  I asked.  "I'm Jonathan" came the answer.  "But everybody calls me "Jons."  He finished.  "Well, Jons, it a pleasure to meet you."  I replied.  It didn't take us long to get directly into our impacting dialogue.  It didn't take long for me to understand that "Jons" was a very enlightened, innocent and yet, very perceptive child.
 
After the usual Q&A on my part mostly about the "what do you want to be when you grow up" stuff, we actually drifted into a genuine conversation and much to my delight, surprise and humiliation.  Jons knew more than I gave him credit for, even at his tender/tough age of five or six.  Jons knew a few things and then some.  He actually put me in a retrospect parachute on an inverted plain.  He had me spinning my mind wheels faster than an intoxicated ride at the county fair.  Jons had something that I had long lost.  A simple view of things.
 
I am not the kind of person to condescend to young people at any age, just ask my son.  I put "adult" questions to young minds as a matter of habit, personal character and more than anything, curiosity.  I wanted to dig into this mind of this boy, Jons, and listen to learn what the time warp from my age to his had accomplished.  It was astronomical in some ways and flat as road-kill in others.  One thing is certain, laughter reigned supreme!

(Article Continues Below)

Here are a few points of the conversation to make this whole discourse worth the time and effort.  You sort it out and decide.  Maybe it was just me and this "psychosomatic" dream of mine has no meaning to anyone else, but it is a joy to share and a dare to give.  Here's some of the Q&A:
 
Me: "Jons, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
Jons: "I want to be happy."
Me: "Well, Jons, yes, but what do you want to do for a living, work?"
Jons: "I don't want to work.  I just want to be happy.  My dad works and so does my mom and they ain't happy.  I want to be happy."
Me: "Jons, you gotta work to find something that makes you happy."
Jons: "Why?"
Me: "Well, that is the way things are.  You have to work to find out what you want and then go after it to find your happiness."
Jons: "But my mom and dad work and they are always unhappy.  When they don't work, they are happy and I like that."
Me: "Yes, Jons but it is the work they do that provides the things you need, the things they need and the time for all of you to have fun.  If they did not work, you would be hungry, no home and no happiness."
Jons: "I saw a man that was happy yesterday.  He didn't have a home."
Me: "What do you mean, Jons?"
Jons: "My dad and I saw him on our way home from school.  He was walking along the sidewalk.  My dad said 'sometimes I wish I were him.'  But when I asked my dad, he said 'nothing' just talking to myself son."
Me: "I guess your dad seemed sad, huh?"
Jons: "Yeah, he seemed sad and then he started to stare a lot, looking out the windows of the car while he was driving.  He looked at me a few times but he seemed to be all by himself.  It felt like he disappeared.  It hurt because I wanted to talk to him."  Jons looks down sadly.
Me: "Well Jons, I am sure your dad was thinking mostly about you and I have no doubt he loves you."
Jons: "Yeah, he's always saying 'Jons, be strong.'  And I know he needs me to take care of myself."
Me: "Jons, I think your dad just wants the best for you and for you to use your own mind, be wise, love, care and be strong in who you are.  I am sure he wants to take care of you and you should never worry about that, it sounds like you have good parents, that is a blessing."
Jons: "I don't know.  All I know is life is hard."
Me: (I chuckle a little bit and prod into the flex of conversation.)  "Well, yeah Jons life is hard that is for sure.  But you shouldn't worry about things like that now."
Jons: "Why?"
Me: "Because those are things that will take care of themselves in the future.  Right now, just trust your parents, love them, obey them and be yourself, Jons, you are a strong and smart boy."
Jons: "I try that stuff but nobody listens to me.  I try to stop my parents when they yell and they say 'it's ok, it isn't anything bad,' but if it isn't bad then why do I feel so bad? My teacher showed us a big ball of the world last week and she said that there are people everywhere.  People on planets or states?  Countries?  Nobody gets along.  They fight over who is right.  Just like my mom and dad.  It made me very sad, I thought it was just me.  Now I look at the ball in the classroom and I cry because there are little dots that have names and people are crying like I do because parents are fighting and I even heard important people fight fighting on T.V.  That is sad and I don't want to live that way.  Now I know what my dad meant.  I want to be just like that homeless man when I grow up."
 
I wish I could express to you what this did and does to my heart and my head.  A daydream, a vision of a five year old boy with such hopelessness.  Is this what we have come to accept?  Will we do anything to change the "Jons" to come and those that be?  I can't describe the overwhelming joy I had in meeting Jons in this dream.  It was an awesome experience and then such a sad ending.  The good news, when I came away from it is, it doesn't have an ending, yet.  May God grant us all the patience, the desire, the pleasure and the peace of our own lives to stop at a shopping mall, a sidewalk, a park, a family reunion, a parade or party, even a funeral to bend a knee, face a "Jons" and listen.  Thank you for bearing with me.

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Lonnie D. Story [send him email] is the author of "The Meeting of Anni Adams" and is working on "Without A Shot Fired: The Dustin Brim Story"  Write Mr Lonnie D. Story at 1339 Center Avenue, Holy Hill, FL 32117.