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Sand Box Dreams

Copyright, 1996, David Lloyd Strauss
All Rights Reserved 

Once upon a time..., many years ago, there stood a child in the sun, gleefully dreaming about the life he was about to live. It was a beautiful summer morning.  The heat of the sun warmed the cool dawn air. Chipmunks wrestled in the trees, and song birds sang with the gaiety of new born life.  Flowers blossomed, painting the air with their magical scent and colors..., creating the backdrop for a mystical day of dreaming.

All was calm on this magical summer day.  The sunlit tree-tops cast delightful images across the waters of the mountain spring.  The dance of shadows amidst the throws of light gave a sense of vibrancy to the stillness of the moment.  In the background echoed the cheers of children, as they danced amidst the butterflies and bees. Pogo-sticks, hoola-hoops, barbies and match-box cars littered the ground..., scattered about, fashioned with the style of a feeding frenzy of fun.  As the children danced from game to game..., they played amidst each other with the innocence of new born life.  From sand-box to slide, swing to jungle-gym..., each of the children explored their imaginations, expanding their dreams into the horizons of a world unknown.

The colors of the day fashioned a scene that only a child could see, for the innocence of a virgin mind can see and imagine the most valiant of dreams.  And for this one child..., the child in the sun..., the child about to dream, this child was special, for his dreams were not ones of things, but of things created with love.  It was his dream to always have a home..., a place to return to..., a place to be nurtured..., a place to be free.  The things he saw were things of beauty.  A beautiful home nestled amidst a forest of trees, and garden of flowers.  A place were birds sang freely, and the elk and deer could safely roam.   A place where friends could play..., where the food was always yummy, clothes always clean, and love always shared.

The child was young, and knew no limits, and as he imagined this home, he imagined the most magical of dreams..., his home was a Castle..., draw-bridge and all keenly decorated with the colorful scent of limitless thinking.  From his heart could He see, and through His heart did he paint...,  painting a picture of a life destined to be free.

With the sun beating upon his hide..., matchbox car in hand..., he built his Castle out of sand..., knowing that one day, it would become real.  Using sea-shells as windows, sticks as flag poles, and stones as doors..., as his mind expanded, his castle grew..., and grow it did..., soon gaining a barn and stable, filled with cattle, sheep and horses.  His horses gained a corral, and the corral a passage way to the mountains. In the mountains he saw himself riding..., brisking through the trees..., splashing along the river..., cooling in the shade of stone.  Waterfalls became rivers.  Rivers became streams. Streams became ponds..., and ponds places of quietude where a resting soul could reflect upon the life he was destined to live.

Back at the castle, toys were scattered about.  Ferrari's, Lamborghini's, Porsche's,  Speed Boats, Airplanes, Motorcycles.  You name it..., every matchbox of dreams was neatly placed in a place one day known to become home.

As the child played in the sand, a Halo of happiness surrounded his being, for He knew that if it weren't for His imagination, He would have no dreams, and if it weren't for His dreams, He would have no place to call home.

David Lloyd Strauss
February 11th, 1996