Clara's Dream

"Why I don't understand why you have to dream!"
"God says,'to call those things that be not as though they were.' So what if I dream for better things, of a better life," I, Clara Goldblum, replied.
" You know, I don't care and I don't understand," Nettie grumbled as she slammed the screen door of the 1950 two-story frame-house.
"No, you don't understand,"I replied with gathered tenacity, as I stood inside the screen door while Nettie piled in a car with her friends and drove away.
"Did she hear you baby?" a short, lean woman asked, her leather-worn face accentuated by few wrinkles.
" No Mama, she didn't hear all of me," I forlornly replied as I turned around.
" Oh, she heard the last bit. That she did," My Mama reassured before walking away.

I walked outside with my small leather Bible in hand, and sat in the porch hammock. I sat outside and looked as the sun set in a vivid array of flaming orange and pink; the orange had been mixed with the pink, allowing the color of a ripe cantaloupe to pervade the sky. I sat and watched the sunset, curled up with my worn, fringed, creme-colored woven blanket draped over my lap, and my Bible clutched in my right hand. I saw the rolling green lawn of Granger's abode before me. I admired the wafts of clouds, ever so slightly infused with ethereal glory; and watched the few flowers beckon in the breeze. I watched a 1954 F-150's trek out of a muddy embankment. I looked upon the little girls playing double-dutch, and the old men playing horseshoes at Mr. Allen's. I stared at our own lawn and its brown tufts of grass, and fell asleep, thanking God for His great Gift.

That night I had a dream. I dreamed that I was in a sun-drenched field, full of sunflowers, taller than my 5'3" stature. I ran into the meadows and lay down; and when I did, two children came, picked up my hands, and led me to a place of death. That place was my town, full of grays and blacks and unearthly tones. The damp place was filled with crying children, whose cries were so loud, and so painful. Nothing struck me more than those cries. At the same time I saw the heavens open and a great Light pour out; the same light gave me a Book, and placed Words in my mouth. When the Light disappeared, the dream did, and it was then when I received the interpretation.
The beautiful sun-lit place was symbolic of me, resting in the full Presence of God, the glory of God. I was filling myself with His goodness; just like I like to do. The children had pulled me away into their very hearts, hearts full of pain and terror; tears and agony. The Light was Jesus Christ, of course, giving me His Word; placing His Words in my mouth to free them, because He illumined the place.

I woke up in awe. I looked outside at the children playing in the twilight, and wondered. I know God had given me this dream; but what was wrong with these children?

At that moment, my sister came home and cynically said,"Had any more dreams, lil' sis?" I opened my mouth to speak, despite the hoots and hollers of her friends, and decided against it. I had heard God say,"Don't cast your pearls before the swine." So I didn't. I sat back down and watched her laugh in my face and enter the house.I leaned back and read my Bible, and thought about my dream. Every day for a year I wondered; never touching one child before my time.

One day, after two years had passed, my sister and I were actually raking leaves in the yard. She said," Our little dreamer, what dreams do you see for me," bringing back the pain of my past.

Most of my peers would tease me and ignore me because I would sit in the corner and read my Bible while they talked about the stupidest things. They always teased me along the same lines, but I remembered the story of Joseph - Thank God!
I picked up my rake and carried it off to the pond, which was two true blocks away. I sat on the bank and cried upon the emerald green moss, and forgot about grass stains. I wondered,"Why God? Why so long?" I wondered and cried, and He reminded me of Ecclesiastes 3:1," To everything there is a season, and a Time for every matter or purpose under the Heaven:" "I lifted up mine eyes to the hills", tears still nestled in them, and with my mouth moving; yet no noticeably audible words coming forth. I thanked God for His Word, for His Will, for His Way. I walked up the embankment in my soft white cotton dress, with belt that tied in the front, and my very red nose.I was met by my sister, who had never seen me cry.

" I know you dream for a better life, but what will you amount to- nothin'," my sister remarked, half-questioningly, half-skeptically.
" It's not me, it's not just for me," I replied. I couldn't tell her how my dreams weren't just for me, and a nice house; one was for her.
" I just don't understand."
" I know you don't," I quietly replied.I walked away, and from then on continued to study my Bible, "to show myself approved before God," and another year passed.
It was a beautiful February morning, full of serene skies and the unmistakable smell of roses, exactly one year since the day on the pond; I was now twenty-three. Nettie was still grisly, and my Faith was only stronger. On this day, I sat on the porch-step with my dress pulled over my knees, daydreaming, until a little girl came crying into my lap.
" Waaaaa..." she wailed, resurrecting the sound in my dream.
" Honey, what is it?" I asked with a bewildered expression taking over my brown face.
" My-m-y. I can't go home..."
"But why Honey?"
"...be-be-cause...my Daddy will kill me," she gasped.
"Honey,why?"
Then a horrible tale of berating physical abuse poured out of a innocent six-year old.
" Honey, you will not die. You will stay with me because Jesus said so. I'll take care of you, and'no weapon that is formed against you will prosper,'" I said as I cuddled her in my arms and stroked her hair. I had found my dream.
I took Honey Brown into my home and took care of her for many months, filling her with Love and the Word of God. Her father did storm my way, demanding her back; but I flatly refused, reminding him that if Honey did not return she could not "reek havoc". His anger subsided and he happily conceded. When God opens a door, no man can shut it.
During those months, a nine year old boy came with a broken leg, victim of child abuse.His parent alcoholic, and his mother defenseless. I prayed over his leg, using Isaiah 53:5," But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our Peace was upon Him; and with His Stripes we are healed," and he was healed instantly. I nurtured him and watched him grow.
After seven months, a young teenage girl came, both her parents dead, and nothing around her but hopeless drunkards; I took her into the happy trio. I realized then that my dreams weren't for me, they truly were for someone else. I knew that someday soon my dream for Nettie would come true; even though the new Life that was poured into these kids made her feel and act worse.
On a Saturday morning in October,eight months since I began receiving children, I took a walk and found my house.
It was a large two-story white house with eighty acres behind, and two acres in front. I could tell by the grass roots that the lawn; despite its bereft look, would be the richest emerald green in spring. The windows were large, and the gable window had the cutest red shutters. The flowers were beautiful; yet, antiquated and the loveliest rose vines grew upon the house. They grew thickly up from the foundation and thinned out as they grew upward, ending with one lone pink rose with red edges, at the very pinnacle of the roof. The double doors were vibrant red and three brick steps led up to them. The house was exquisite and hardly seemed to belong on that block; but it did. I was absolutely fond of that house, and I knew the children would love working in its garden. The house of my dreams; but a whole lot bigger. I looked through the dusty window and found a wizened little woman with a thin, leather bound book before her on boughten desk. She said one word,"Here," and fell asleep. I took the book from her hands and opened it. Inside was the deed of the house and a place to sign. I was completely overjoyed; but I wondered how I could take the house from this woman. Then a tall, young man with coarse, curly black hair walked in and said with the most jovial grin," So I see she gave you the house."
" I... but...Do I sign?"
" Absolutely. When my Mama gives a house, she gives it."
And with that, he put his hat back on , turned around , and walked out the door.
Well, if God has to tell me any harder, I thought;
and then signed the deed. I waltzed the entire way home, full of ecstasy; and so were my children
when I told them the news.

As I prayed that night, I remembered the house
in my dream, and asked," Lord,why do I need a big house for?"
" The children," he replied.
So, that's what I did. I dedicated my house;first to God, and then to forsaken, degraded children. I called it " Come unto Me". Its mission was that of Matthew 11:28-30," Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me; for I am Meek and Lowly in Heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For My Yoke is easy, and My Burden is light."
As I raised these children in the fear and admonition of the Lord, I remembered all the people who had talked about me. I remembered them all, as I watched a delivered Nettie walked up the steps of my dream-house and apologized.