What Did You See in Your Dreams, My Little One?

Another night passes, and I watch your tiny features as you drift into sleep. I study your resting face as if reading a book yet to be written. And once again, I find myself wondering:

What did you see in your dreams, my little one?

Were you running through an orchard untouched by war? Among trees heavy with apples, on a field of grass unscarred by fear?

Did you pass by a candy seller, smiling as you reached out your hand with the trust of a child who’s never known deprivation?

Did you sip a warm cup of milk without counting what we have left?

Did you dip your finger into strawberry jam without wondering if it even exists on our shelves?

I pray your dreams are more beautiful than your reality,

richer than our cupboards,

and kinder than what your eyes witness by day.

I wish I could promise you that all you dream of will one day come true.

I wish I had the means to place a warm cup of milk at your side each morning, or to hide a sweet under your pillow each night.

But in our world, even dreams are sometimes stolen.

And still, I beg you—never stop dreaming.

For maybe, just maybe, your dreams will grow with you...

until they become a life untouched by war,

and free from hunger.

By the way, you are more than eighty people.

If each of you gave up a small luxury—a cup of coffee or a slice of cake—and donated just $10,

you could help save my children from certain starvation.

-Maryam