When Truth Becomes A Dream

It has finally happened. The reality of peddling books has entered my dreams.


THE DREAM

With a crowd of others, I was waiting for the train to come. Patty and her daughters were also waiting. As the train approached, I realized that I did not have a single copy of my book with me. Without mentioning it to anyone, I dashed home, picked up two copies, and ran back to the train station. The train was already loaded and pulling out, but I was able to hop onto the caboose as it passed.

Though everyone seemed to know each other, I did not recognize anyone. Every passenger was a middle-aged woman, dressed in 1930's fashion (dark-colored, rayon dresses with full skirts accented only by white bobby sox). I soon realized that each lady had a book in her hand. They were highly intelligent, discussing their own piece of literary excellence. It did not take me long to realize the passengers were all authors. It did dawn on me that they might speak to me if I could introduce them to Jessie.

I set about trying to locate where I had laid my copies. When, at last, I spotted my book, there was only one copy. After searching diligently, I noticed a person standing like the Statue of Liberty. Instead of bearing the torch, she was holding up my book and stating, "Don't read this. It is not a true story." That is when I realized that all of the other's books were nonfiction. And since I have wavered between calling my literary piece of work "fact" or "fiction," I declared, "That is why I have always called it non-fiction." Then I walked to the next car and found my daughter and her youngest sitting in wicker seats. They refused to pay me any heed.

REALITY

John had shared with his class on Proverbs that he will be taking a train trip with Patty and the girls and other home-schooling folks.

Over our weekly dinner, before studying the Bible together, three other ladies and I were discussing a monthly book club they attend. Next month, the book of choice will be Jessie. I will be present at the critiquing session, and my Christian sisters are concerned that my feelings will be hurt by some of the "honest" comments.

As John and I left for an appointment, I realized there were no copies of the book in my car so I ran back inside to get one book. One never knows when someone will want to ask about it.

The only thing missing in reality is my hopping on a caboose. Stay tuned!