Dreamarium

Where Dreams Come True

The Red Sign

Inside the Dreamarium

The Gift

The Concert

The light turned on every morning around 5:30 a.m. It was bright red. The villagers did not understand what it meant. A mysterious man in a black cape and purple felt cap with a peacock feather tucked into it had purchased the abandoned pickle factory a few months before. A slew of workers would go in and out each day carrying planks of wood, cans of paint, hammers, tubing, sheets of steel.

"What on earth is he doing? Who is he?"

This man of unknown origin had a bit of an accent and a dark brown beard.

"I am not sure where he is from," said the grocer. "He comes in every day to buy lemons. 'May I have some sweet lemons?' he asks. Sweet lemons? Imagine that," said the grocer, shaking his head.

It was December 19th when the sign lit up for the first time. It was the only electronic sign in the neighborhood.

"What on earth is that?" said the workmen on their way to the factories. The children were very perplexed. The sign was bright red. The letters curved, almost as if they were all connected.

Dreamarium, said the sign.

Alyssa was a quiet girl. Her big sister did all the talking. In fact, her big sister never stopped talking. At the dinner table, Alyssa sat quietly and listened. If ever she tried to say something, her big sister would smirk.

"Come on. What is taking you so long? Spit it out. Never mind. I know what you want to say."

And her big sister would finish her sentences for her.

Alyssa could not speak. She never really had the opportunity. Instead, Alyssa became a wonderful listener—an observer.

One day she walked by the old pickle factory on her way to school and saw the bright red sign.

Dreamarium, read the sign.

Alyssa stopped—entranced. The red colors seemed to dance before her.

Suddenly, the man in the black cape and purple felt cap with a peacock feather in it appeared in the doorway.

"Good morning, my dear. How are you? Would you like to come in?"

"I am. I am. I am."

Alyssa had trouble getting her words out.

The man waited patiently. He smiled a gentle, kind, knowing smile, but he did not finish Alyssa's sentence for her.

"I am on my way to school," Alyssa said, surprised that she was able to complete her own sentence. She smiled and took a deep breath.

"I see," said the man. "My name is Mr. Periwinkle. Please come by after school as my special guest. I would be delighted to give you a tour of the Dreamarium."

Alyssa nodded and smiled.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay," replied Mr. Periwinkle as he tipped his hat gently.

"Ciao," he said.

"Ciao."

Alyssa could barely pay attention at school.

"Alyssa!" shouted her teacher, Mrs. Zelinski. "Pay attention, darling. You are staring out the window. There is nothing out there but clouds."

Just as the school bell rang, Alyssa walked as fast as she could to make her afternoon visit.

"Where are you going so quickly?" chided the other children. "In a hurry to read more books by yourself?" they laughed.

Finally, Alyssa arrived. The bright red sign was still illuminated.

Dreamarium, it read.

And suddenly, Mr. Periwinkle appeared too.

"I am glad you decided to stop by."

He paused, waiting for Alyssa to announce her name.

"Alyssa," she responded.

"What a wonderful name," replied Mr. Periwinkle. "Welcome to the Dreamarium, where dreams come true. Come in."

As Alyssa entered, she seemed to lose a sense of time. It was as if she entered a cloud. The walls were painted with clouds. Seagulls were painted flying within them. A cool mist met her, like fumes of a cloud.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"You are entering your dreams," replied Mr. Periwinkle.

Then they came to a large room with a giant globe sitting atop a thick wooden table. It was glowing in a beautiful, gentle yellow light.

"Come, sit with me at the table of dreams," said Mr. Periwinkle.

The chair was fluffy and soft. Alyssa sank into it. She felt as if she was floating in a cloud, with the whole world before her.

"The world is before you, my dear. If you could do anything, what would it be?"

"I wish I could speak and finish my thoughts before my big sister does."

"You have a beautiful voice inside you, Alyssa. Indeed, you must share it with the world."

Just then a colorful songbird flew by Alyssa's side and perched on the edge of the chair.

"This is Melita," smiled Mr. Periwinkle. "Her voice is like honey. Do as she does."

Mr. Periwinkle lifted his hands like a conductor at an orchestra. Melita, the songbird, began to sing the most beautiful song that Alyssa had ever heard—a song without words, but filled with more meaning than words could ever have.

"It is your turn, Alyssa."

Alyssa opened her mouth. Nothing came out, nothing at all.

Mr. Periwinkle nodded.

Alyssa looked into his eyes. They twinkled in the glow of the yellow globe. She looked into Melita's eyes. They twinkled too.

La, la, la. Fa, la, la. La, la.

Alyssa could not believe the power of her own voice as it soared through the clouds of the Dreamarium.

A tear rolled down the cheeks of Mr. Periwinkle. Melita's eyes grew larger with surprise. Alyssa began to sing the most beautiful tune they had ever heard.

Then she stopped, and the sweetest silence filled the Dreamarium. Only the whoosh of the mist swirled around them.

Alyssa's lips parted in the widest smile she had ever had.

"You, Alyssa, have a gift. We all have gifts, many, many gifts. It is our job in this life to discover them, then to share them with the world."

Alyssa's eyes grew wide. She knew that Mr. Periwinkle was right.

"Tomorrow, Alyssa, I want you to go to the school. Let your music teacher know that you would like to join the choir. This weekend, there will be a winter concert."

"But I don't know…"

Mr. Periwinkle put his fingers over his lips.

"Don't let your doubts get in the way of your dreams, Alyssa."

"Now go on. Don't you have some homework to do?"

"Yes, I do," replied Alyssa. "Thank you, Mr. Periwinkle."

This time Alyssa didn't walk quickly. She ran home, flying on the wings of her dreams.

At the dinner table, Alyssa's parents asked her about her day.

"It was wonderful," said Alyssa, as her big sister looked on in shock.

"Wonderful!" she repeated.

The next day, as Alyssa had discussed with Mr. Periwinkle, she approached the music teacher, Mrs. Zelinski, about joining the choir.

"Your timing could not be better," replied Mrs. Zelinski. "We've just had one of our singers move out of town. Come with me to the piano. I want you to sing a few chords. Match what you hear when I play."

And so she did. Alyssa's voice took flight like a beautiful songbird.

Mrs. Zelinski felt like she was floating through the clouds when she heard Alyssa sing. Tears rolled down her cheek.

This quiet little girl bears such a gift, she thought to herself.

"Alyssa," said Mrs. Zelinski, stumbling over her words in the presence of such a gifted little girl. "I am going to give you a solo tomorrow."

"A solo," Alyssa replied, "but I am not—"

Then she stopped. She remembered Mr. Periwinkle's words.

Never let doubt get in the way of your dreams.

She followed with one word.

"Yes," she said.

"Yes," she said again.

"Yes."

When the night of the concert came, all the villagers joined in the festive holiday hall—Alyssa's parents and her sister, all her classmates, the factory workers, Mr. Periwinkle too.

Then the time came. Alyssa stepped onto the stage alone. Mrs. Zelinski touched the piano keys.

Alyssa looked out at all the faces, all the eyes looking at her.

"I don't think I—"

Alyssa's big sister smirked. Her parents looked down into their laps.

Alyssa opened her mouth, but not a sound came out.

Just then, the far window of the hall flew open. A light mist entered the hall. Melita perched on the windowsill.

"Never, ever let doubts get in the way of your dreams," Alyssa whispered to herself.

Just then, the most beautiful sounds ever to be heard came from Alyssa's mouth. The audience felt as if they were flying within the clouds. Tears began to roll down their cheeks.

Alyssa's sister looked on with awe. She had never been so proud of her little sister.

That night, all the townspeople entered a dream.

Outside, the glowing red sign of the Dreamarium sparkled more brightly than ever.

A story by Pemba Umoja