A Dreamer

A Dreamer

I have always been a dreamer, I was born that way, and my father was a dreamer. He had a workshop in our back yard where he made some wonderful furniture and other things. Sometimes I think he spent more time dreaming about the projects than he did working on them.

Dad always dreamed of building a house boat, he had the plans, many of the items he would need but he never started on the boat.

Dad made tables in the Second World War and sold them to a local furniture store. He worked a couple of pastor students on the project and I think any money he made he gave to them so that they could stay in college.

Out of the five churches I pastored he made tables for all of the class rooms. With a trick he had in making the legs their height could be changed to fit the age and size of the children.

Toward the end of his life he stopped talking about the houseboat. I asked him one day about the boat and he said in a very low tone, ‘I don’t think I will need a boat.’

One day he stopped dreaming; it was only a short while after that, that he joined mother in glory.  I think when you stop dreaming your desire to live slips away and life soon leaves.

I wish you had dreamed a bit longer Dad; I need a cover for my patio so that I can sit and dream.


Published in: on March 27, 2017 at 10:41 pm  Leave a Comment  

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