Rabbi Dr. Irwin Wiener
As the summer begins to wane, my mind begins to wander toward a new season, and I find myself dreaming. I dream of those days thought to be “fun filled” or “better.”
Several years ago, I read a story about a man who owned a horse ranch and had agreed to let the house on his ranch be used for a benefit to assist the needy. He then related a story about a young man who was the son of an itinerant horse trainer who would go from stable to stable, race track to race track, farm to farm, and ranch to ranch training horses. As a result, this boy’s high school career was continually interrupted. When he was a senior, he was asked to write a paper about what he wanted to be and do when he grew up.
That night the boy wrote many pages describing his goal of someday owning a horse ranch. He wrote about his dream in detail and even drew a diagram of a 200-acre ranch, showing the location of all the buildings. He then drew a detailed floor plan of a 4,000-square-foot house that would sit on the 200-acre dream ranch.
His heart and soul went into the project, and the day after he finished the project, he handed it in to his teacher. A few days later, he received his papers back. On the front page was a large “F” with a note that indicated the teacher wanted to meet him after class.
The boy and his dream met the teacher after class and wondered why he received an “F.” The teacher remarked that the dream as detailed was unrealistic, especially for a boy like him. He had no resources, came from an itinerant family, and owning a horse ranch requires a lot of money. Money is needed for land purchase, stockbreeding—on and on—I think you get the picture. The teacher continued that there was no way someone like him could ever realize this dream and urged that he write something else that could be believed, and if this were done, the grade would be reconsidered.
The boy went home and thought long and hard and even asked his father for advice. His father suggested that this decision was his, as was his dream.
Finally, after sitting and pondering for a week or so, he turned in the same paper with no changes and told the teacher that he could keep his “F” and he would keep his dream. Needless to say, the teller of the story was that boy.
Yes, life is about dreams—past and present. As we get older, the question remains as to whether, at this stage in our lives, we can still dream. What kind of dreams do older people have? Are dreams determined by age?
Well, the simple truth is that dreams are not for the young alone. Dreams change with time, but humans continue to dream, because life as we know it is filled with dreams—good ones and bad ones. Dreaming about the past, as an example, helps us understand who we are and where we came from.
We also dream about the future of our grandchildren. We dream about survival—more than just escaping tragedies, but concentrating on quality of life as we survive to an age never dreamed possible by the past generation.
We are, at this time in our journey, concerned about being a burden or not being willing to accept help when it is needed. We fear losing our independence or that there are more years behind us than in front. We are unnerved about tomorrow.
And even at death, the dreams are not gone—they just become memories. We are living proof that dreams do come true, and as we continue to dream, the generations that follow will have an appreciation of what dreams mean.