When I was around the age of six or seven, I used to dream of a friendly white lion. He would listen to my problems, and offer me advice, and courage. This was a repeating dream, and when I woke up from it, I always felt better.
Other than the white lion, the dream itself was pretty plain: No details, no excitement, just me and the white lion, in a small empty room, talking. Sometimes I’d cry, and he’d listen, then, offer me kind words and love, always a feeling of love.
Then one night, the dream changed. My white lion told me, I would dream of him no more. I was old enough, and did not need him anymore he said. I cried. He said not to worry, that he gave me all the courage I would ever need. And that was that. I never dreamed of that white lion ever again.
As I grew older, I realized that my white lion was right: I WAS brave enough to face the world without him. But, to this day, I still miss him. I like to pretend that after he left me, he went on to help other children in their dream worlds, giving them courage to face their problems.
I told this story the other day to my seven year old daughter Annika. I asked her that if she ever dreamed of my white lion, to tell him he helped me so much, and that I loved him, and truly missed him. Her eyes sparkled.
I wonder, will my white lion of courage visit her dreams one day? I hope so!