Sunflower Field

One week before my birthday last year I had a very memorable dream. So memorable I haven’t forgotten it. I was standing in front of a beautiful field of sunflowers and admiring the delicate but strong flowers they are with their thick stall leading to the big round head they have that makes it almost sound funny. But then you stop and take a really deep look at them and there they are: yellow like gold, following the sunlight like there is nothing else on their way, all they have and all they want is right there above them, and all they have to do is follow it.

So I was there, asking my dad what was all that about. Why did he decide to grow sunflowers all of a sudden? It took me straight to when I was four years old and I have this very clear memory of running round a sunflower field playing with my brothers of hide and seek. The flowers were so much taller than me that I couldn’t see a thing so I would just stay still waiting on them to find me. It could have been one of the best days of my life and I didn’t know.

One week before my birthday last year I woke up crying and I didn’t know if it was out of joy or sadness. I instantly reminded the dream. I looked at the field, I looked at my dad and I asked who that field was for. He looked deep into my eyes, held my both arms and smiled with his lightly wrinkled eyes and his spaced front teeth. Then he said: all this is for you my daughter, happy birthday.

Suddenly I realized that I was the sunflower field. That I was the field and all I needed was to follow my dreams and nothing else, no one else, with nobody on my way. The gift that my dad gave me that night on that dream was called freedom, was called choice, was called wings.