I had a dream the other night. I was younger, probably in my early 20’s, and with three other young men. We were dirty and hungry wandering around barefoot in tattered clothes. The dream gave no clue as to who these other men were or how we had come to this place and in such bad shape. I did have the sense that we might have been soldiers, perhaps escaped POWs trying to get back to our lines.
We were in the countryside, stumbling along by a river. We came upon a sand bar near the riverbank and saw small footprints. Some were barefoot and some had shoes. We walked a bit further along a trail that ran beside the river looking for more footprints when suddenly a boy appeared. He looked to be 8 or 9 years old, and he had a sack over his shoulder that was filled with canned food.
We spoke to him, but he did not reply, only motioning for us to follow him off the trail and up to higher ground above the river. He pointed to a small village in the distance and began walking in that direction. We followed. When we got to the village we saw no signs of life.
It was an old village.
We might have been in Germany, or France, or Northern Italy. He led us to an empty cottage and unloaded the
canned food. Before we could tear into
those cans, a small girl and two other boys appeared. The little girl was carrying a basket of bread. One of the boys had a jug of fresh water, the
other a bottle of wine. They smiled and
offered us the bread, the water and the wine.
Before I awoke from the dream, I remember a small loaf of bread in my hands. I broke it in half and began to eat. Then the dream faded away and I woke up....crying.
