|Mt. Washington with Alpenglow- a bit closer than our park view.|
We lie in a pile up in her high loft bed; a tower set apart, resting. Baby Rain, little sister, is down below. Darkness creeps into the sleepy corners.
"Do you want me to open the window so you can smell the sunset?"
"What does it smell like?"
"You tell me." I open the window.
She takes a deep breath.
"It smells like rainbows."
She dreamed that night about brothers- helping her, holding her up, supporting her (she has no natural brothers). The brothers in the dream were represented by real people in her life, friends, both girls and boys. It's a dream, mom, anybody could be a brother, boy or girl," she reminds me. She was falling and they helped her up. Then they gave her a picture of Jesus. A physical picture of Jesus as well as the metaphorical one.
This is how my five year old dreams.
So sleep well, little girl. Don't worry about what might be lost. Soon you will be six and you might not remember what rainbows smell like. But you'll never be alone in this life- that I promise.
photo courtesy of Pacific Crest Stock Photo Blog