This story is a result of a dream I had Saturday night and woke up Sunday morning reeling over. Written by Rynal Grant (THR) 2/6/11…Sunday morning.
I had a dream that I was in my home town. I walked around with my mother and we discussed how they were tearing down different buildings and building new ones.
She told me of how years ago this old man was given a car. In the trunk of the car was millions of dollars. He took the money and built himself a house, and started a farm.
Then I had an idea for a product that would make the world a better place. It was drinking water. But as the dream progressed, I wanted to improve upon that idea.
I went out and recruited a few folks that I believed could help me realize this dream. Among them a high school friend and a guy from India. We were in a room with an expansive view of our town fast becoming a city.
I asked them spreading my arms abroad, look around and tell me what you see? They answered but did not get it. I told them the answer, “No! Things (times) are changing.”
We proceeded to build our business. I had them recruit others (college students) to help. Then I got another idea for a small powdered packet that would add flavor to the drink while simultaneously making it cool. I got the idea thinking about people in other countries living under sweltering heat.
With all of the college students assembled in the classroom (slowly becoming a cornfield) I had the stage floor. I told them that this is the beginning of a company! I started to tell them what they had to do to help this come about. Simultaneously they disagreed and got up to leave.
After my failure I was walking through town and thinking to myself, I’m going to get with the Indian (from India) and see if we could still go forward with my cool water idea. I was walking with my friend down this dusty raod flanked by a cornfield and an older man, a farmer must have heard us talking and approached us. He told us, boys years ago someone gave me some money in a car, and I want to share it with you. I began to thank the man profusely. My friend began the descent down the steep embankment. I found myself on top of an old semi.
I told the old farmer that I’ll find another way down to the car. He seemed to agree that that was fine. As I searched for a safe way down another older man began to talk with him.
They spoke about the national anthem and hos someone sang it today. The farmer said with all seriousness, something about “they ought not to let him sing it! Sing about my America! I’d get up there and sing it myself!
It was then that I realized that these men were WWII veterans and my respect for them grew immensely.
The End.
In the beginning of the dream, the sky was obviously cloudy and dark. Towards the end of the dream, the sky was a bright golden color. I do not even remember seeing the blue of the sky. I never actually made it to the car that contained the money.
This dream was still so strongly in my mind when I work, I knew immediately that I needed to write about it before it went away. I did my best to accurately describe the story. I wanted to present to you the main parts or points.
Specific details of the city and the faces of people on down to the Indian, the farmer, and even my high school friend are very sketchy as I do not really recall ever seeing the details of their faces. It was as if I was dreaming out of my peripherals, only in reverse. Meaning the faces was more visible if I did not look at them directly.
Weird dream … huh?
