As I frantically pack and load and clean etc. etc., I saw this jar that I have had for a while. I've been doing research and work for school about the Underground Railroad. Seeing this jar made me think not about my own forgotten dreams, but about the dreams of slaves from the 1800's. Did they once have little jars of their own, money they scraped and saved while dreaming of freedom? Did they lay awake after a hard day's work, harder than I have ever known, and dream of rest and peace and release? My dreams seem insignificant in the light of what others have suffered.
"I saw nothing without seeing it, I heard nothing without hearing it. It looked from every star, smiled in every calm, breathed in every wind and moved in every storm."
~Frederick Douglass, speaking of freedom~