I never dream of meeting a famous person. I always dream of meeting one person who is special in my life: my mother. I dream of meeting her at least once.
Here is my dream: the day is my birthday and all the members of my family are there for a surprise party for me. When I enter the room, the lights are off, but then they switch on the lights and everyone is shouting “Happy Birthday!” I am shocked because I didn’t remember it was my birthday. I see everyone is there except my mother. I look everywhere and can’t find her. My father is trying to keep me busy. I ignore him because it has been two months since I’ve seen my mother and I really miss her.
Then I see the door of my room is open, so I go there and see my mother standing near her picture. I hug her from the back and say, “Love you, Mother, and miss you so much.” She is wearing a white dress and a long veil. She turns her face—she looks like an angel—and then she kisses my head. Then everybody brings the cake into my room and I cut it. I’m so happy to see the family all together. Everyone gives my gifts, except my mother. She says “Come to me, my lovely daughter,” and she holds my hand.
I think my mother will give me a beautiful gift. She says, “Sit here.” I sit and my mother asks about my heath, and she wants to know about my studies. I am so happy to see her after this long time. I love talking to her. We talk a long time and I make her laugh. I love seeing her smile; she looks very happy at the end.
I ask my mother where my gift is, and then she gives me one pen and one notebook. It looks very old but very beautiful. The notebook is not empty. She wrote her life story in half the notebook. I say, “Mum, it is very old.” My mother says to me, “I know it is old, but this is from childhood. My mother gave it to me to start writing, and with this pen, I began writing about my life. So I want you to complete this notebook.” I open the some page of the notebook and read some of the lines she wrote about herself, how she made her life and how she suffered being a woman in society, and how she faced problems bravely.
Then she says, “This pen is your hand, and this notebook is your heart, and your mind is observing all around you, which helps you write. Also write what I’ve taught you from childhood up to now, and what you learn from your own experience because I am not always with you. One day I have to leave this world, but you must find your way from this complicated life and I am sure you will.”
Then I stand and kiss her hands and face. “Thank you, Mother, for showing me the right way and encouraging me. Love you, Mum. Always be with me.” I hug her again.
In the morning I wake up and hug her picture and I see in reality she wasn’t with me; she left me already. That was my dream, spending lovely moments of my life with her.