On gifts and dreams

Gate at HillTop as featured in

'The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck'

I have a dream.

I say 'have' because it has yet to materialise. Yet I wonder whether I should be saying 'had' instead coz, honestly, I don't know whether it ever will.

My dream, many, many moons ago, was to write children's books. I think I only shared this teeny-tiny aspiration with 1 dear friend. It seemed like wishful thinking, a pipedream. It still is. I had the desire, but I lacked the confidence and quite frankly, the know-how.

Afterall, there are good authors and there are Good authors. I wanted to be the latter and wouldn't have it any other way. But since I was not convinced of my own writing skills, I thought it best to put this lofty ideal on the back burner.

Our recent trip to the Lake District rekindled this dream for me. Especially the visit to HillTop, Beatrix Potter's house. As we ambled through the dimly-lit house (lighting that day was marred by very grey weather) - quietly contemplating the china and furniture left exactly the way Miss Potter had intended them - I was awestruck by the attention to detail Miss Potter demonstrated through her illustrations. Many of her stories were based in her own house and it was there where many of her best-known characters were created.

As I looked out of her cottage windows, I saw familiar scenes that were immortalized in her books. A gate, a windy road, a stone wall, even furniture found their way into the pages of her beautifully-illustrated books.

Then I realised. How personal these books were to her. How real and unpretentious. Even the characters she conjured were based on animals around her farm. But they were not just any cat, duck or brood of bothersome rats. To her, they were real characters who milled about her house, getting into all sorts of mischief.

Her talents in being able to spin simple yet delightful tales, coupled with her beautiful water-coloured drawings, is what made her books special.

In fact, I'd say her story-telling abilities were God-given gifts.

Sometimes I wonder what God's gifts to me are. Have I utilised any of them? Have I even recognised what they are?

The thing about gifts - big or small - is they are nothing if you do not best make use of them.

I don't want to go through Life not know what my gifts are, coz I'm sure I have some. Everybody does.

I'm going to try to find out what mine are and hopefully, in the process, find out whether I can transform certain dreams into reality?