Chicken Soup for the Soul - December 27

Dreams are surprisingly durable. Though forgotten, they will lie like dry seeds buried in desert sands, waiting. A dream may appear fragile and lifeless, but inside the parched husk waits lush creative potential. We sometimes forget these old dreams of ours, but they do not forget us. Spring rains arrive at last, following the hard years of drought, and our "dead" dreams sprout most unexpectedly. We are filled with delight to see their long-forgotten shape, to breathe their fragrance again, and we wonder at our carelessness in forgetting. Today, I will visit my garden of forgottern dreams... and bring a watering can.

Edison