Box of Dreams
I found a box today. It was labeled "Dreams Fulfilled". It was shoved back in a dark corner where I was sure not to find it except by chance. The sadder thing was that I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen it, much less put something in.
So I dove into that dark corner and wrestled it out of the dust and dark. When I picked it up, I was shocked and a bit saddened at how light it felt.
I set it on a table in the light and slowly took off the lid. I peered inside and at first didn't see a thing. Then I looked more closely and saw in the bottom one thin, lonely little dream.
I reached in and brought it out. As I looked it over, I nearly cried. This tiny, fragile little thing was the only dream I'd ever fulfilled? Where had the rest of my dreams gone?
I closed the box and set it aside. Where could the rest of them be?
I searched high and low, up and down, backwards and forwards, and even upside down. There was nothing. I couldn't find it no matter where I looked.
Then a thought occurred to me. What about the dark corner? So I looked again and there it was. Next to where "Dreams Fulfilled" had been sat a box labeled "Dreams Unfulfilled".
Apprehensively, I tried to lift the box and found it too heavy. I pushed and pulled and kicked at it until I had battled it into the light.
Kneeling down, I opened it up and the dreams spilled out across the floor, as though I had let lose a torrential waterfall. I scrambled to catch them but soon my arms were full, but there seemed no end. All my dreams kept spilling out of the box and I marveled that they had all fit inside.
As the flow slowed to a halt, I leaned back and compared the boxes. One so empty and one so full! Then I looked to the dreams.
Some were paper thin and others as heavy as giants. Some were so small they were lost in the chaos and others were as big as the sky.
How could all these marvelous dreams have been lost in the shuffle of life? How could I have forgotten all the things I wanted to see, to do, to taste, to feel, to experience firsthand? How could I have forgotten what I wanted to be and to become? What I wanted to do with my life? How I wanted to leave my mark on the world and what I wanted the world to be when I was gone?
I sat in silence for a long while, despairing at these dreams. Some, now, could never be fulfilled. The chances had been missed and the times were long past. Some could never be gone back to. I watched as those floated up and evaporated, disappearing without a trace.
Then I looked down at those that were left and realized that there were still so many that I would never be able to get them back into the box. What could I do with them then? I couldn't possibly fulfill them all in one day.
Quite suddenly the idea struck me and I laughed at my own foolishness. Why would I put them back in the box? I would only lose them again. So the answer for me was clear.
I pasted every one to the walls, covering the expanse infinitely with my "Dreams To Be Fulfilled". All the paper thin ones and the ones as heavy as giants. All the ones so small they would be lost otherwise and the ones as big as the sky.
I stepped back and looked over my handiwork, proudly smiling to myself. Now I wouldn't lose sight of dream again.