The Scribe Had a Dream

    I was in a different room, but I still heard the Scribe and the Hippie whispering.
    "What are you doing?" the Hippie asked.
    "Hippie, I want to tell you something.  If you have a dream, it probably won't be easy . . . but if you try hard enough, you might be able to make it come true.  Look at Mama.  She wanted people to read her book.  She worked hard and now her dream might come true."
    "O . . . kay.  But what are you doing?"
    "Isn't it obvious?  I have a dream."
    "And those scissors are gonna make it come true?"
    "Yes," the Scribe answered.  "But not just the scissors.  I also need an old toy box and some mint floss."
    I couldn't imagine what her dream could be.  I know I'm her mother; I should have known, but it was beyond me in that moment.
    I listened to them for awhile longer, until the Scribe squealed with delight.
    "Wow, I didn't know you could make something like that," the Hippie said reverently.
    "Of course I can.  If you try hard enough, you'll be shocked with the things you can do."
    The Hippie laughed.  "I think I'll have a busy life."
    I felt so proud--maybe those kids will be hard workers.  I grinned about it, then couldn't wait any longer.  I walked into the room and gawked at the Scribe.  
    That kid is such a character.  I'm glad she made her dream come true. Like I wrote before, I should have known.