Little girl -- braids long down her back, summer sun warm on her face -- twirls in the meadow, her eyes lifted to heaven, the blue of the sky reflected in forget-me-not blue of their dreamy depths. This moment is hers and she has entered fully, drinking deeply of it's beauty. Now she sits, cross legged among the daisies, fingers the petals thoughtfully and dreams.
She is too innocent to know that her little girl dreams will fade like her childhood innocence. That the fragile hopes will shatter on the hard cold floor of reality. That those whom her young heart adores will betray and that the heroes in her dreams will be the ones who trample her dreams in reality.
The years come and go. Time finds her a young woman. She wanders in the meadow now barren with the browns and grays of the darker seasons of the year. The sky is a weepy gray and the silence hangs heavy. Her heart is heavy too. Heavy with the silence of the unanswered questions and unrelenting darkness. Wounded with shattered confidence and broken dreams. She has buried much of all she ever hoped and dreamed in this desolate place. Yet her eyes are still raised to the heavens. They reflect the weepy gray of the skies in their tear blurred depths.
Suddenly from behind the deep gray of the shifting silent cloud mass a single ray of light softly slips through. It touches her upturned face. She reaches up as if to catch it's warmth and in that moment she suddenly knows that someone is still dreaming for her. Even when the pain and darkness of her own world stole her ability to dream -- the ONE who has perfect plans for her kept dreaming, is still redeeming, still weaving silver beauty through the woof and warp of the dark tapestry of her life. Something in her stirs, and in the soil of her brokenness a seed of hope takes root and begins to grow -- somehow she knows she will dare to dream again.