A Reading Story

There is a dream I’ve had several times since my daughter was born.

At least twice, I’ve walked in a to a bookstore in a mall. Kind of like a Waldenbooks (for those who remember) but with better lighting and a more kid-friendly layout. I’ve walked in to a section that holds books for pre-teens – books children around age 10 might read if books were something that excited them.

Each time I’m looking for this specific book. It had a name like “Back to…” or “Return to…” or “Last of…” – I can’t quite remember the title. When I tell the staff who work there – usually in their late teens to early 20s, they get excited. It’s an older book that most children growing up today haven’t read, but if you love books, especially fantasy adventures, it’s one you simply must have read.

In another, related dream, I was back on an old main street in a town I used to live in or visit frequently, perhaps to see a semi-close relative when I was a child myself. A girl I used to play with around my age still lives there, and she still has an old copy of the book, with pages that long ago turned brown. Still, it was exciting to see the book and open it up, to read a few of the words on the first page that launched a great adventure.

I’m not someone who attaches a lot of significance to meaning in dreams. However, I can say without a doubt that these are a set of dreams that contain strong emotions, of nostalgia, perhaps, but also of a love of books, of adventure, and of ideas. Emotions that perhaps I hope my daughter will have and that I will have been able to pass on to her.

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