Once there was a dreamer, who dreamed dreams of far-off lands where cherry blossoms bloomed and sweet aromas filled cleaner-than-clean air. It hardly mattered that, in reality, there was no flower in sight and the smells were smelly, and the fumes in the air made him cough all day: He was a dreamer, and so his dreams were as real as the nose on his face, and he had a prominent proboscis.
One day the gap between his dreams and his reality filled his heart with an unusual sadness, and he appealed to the Creator of the Universe: “Lord, make my dreams real, please, if you wish.”
Suddenly there arose a blinding light, and the sky crackled with energy, and a voice that came from everywhere replied, “Dreamer, I would love to make your dreams come true, but you must also do your part. My part is creation, your part is maintenance and repair, and we both contribute love.”
“I can do that,” the dreamer agreed.
It began to rain, and the rain washed away the stink. The dreamer planted cherry trees and lilacs, and he lifted weeds from the soil until his hands and arms ached.
I would like to say it wasn’t long before his dreams came true, but it takes a long time for cherry trees and lilacs to grow. Still, there came a day when cherry blossoms bloomed and the air was clean, and the dreamer whispered, “Thank you, Lord.”
“You’re welcome,” said the Creator. “Keep up the good work.”
