The Dreamer

The Dreamer

Once, in an Armenian village among orchards, stone paths, and distant blue mountains, there lived a boy whom everyone called the Dreamer. It was not because he was lazy. On the contrary, he helped his father in the orchard, carried water, mended fences, and could count quickly. But his dreams were so vivid that in the morning he remembered their colors, voices, and even their scents. One morning he woke before everyone else. The sun had only just touched the treetops, and he was already sitting by the door, staring into the distance. His mother noticed his thoughtful face. “What did you dream about?” she asked. “A dream,” he said. “A very strange dream. But I will not tell it yet.” “Why not?” “Because I feel I must understand it myself first.” His mother was hurt. His father asked too, but the Dreamer held firm. “I will tell you when the time is right.” The talk turned into an argument. Everyone said more than they meant to, and the Dreamer, upset, decided to walk along the road until he had cooled down. Beyond the village he met a traveler. “Where are you going, boy?” “I do not know yet.” “And why are you so thoughtful?” “I had a dream, but I am not ready to tell anyone about it.” The traveler laughed. “So you are keeping a secret? That happens. But remember: a secret should make a person wiser, not lonelier.” The Dreamer thanked him and walked on. By evening he reached a city with a great palace. At the gate, the prince was hearing the people’s requests. The boy bowed politely. “Who are you, and where do you come from?” asked the prince. The Dreamer told him about his journey, then added, “I also had a dream that I am not ready to tell.” The prince was a powerful man who disliked anything being kept from him. “Not even to me?” “Not even to you. Not from disrespect. It is simply not time.” The prince frowned, but his daughter, who stood nearby, said softly, “Father, you cannot force a person to give you a thought.” So the prince ordered that the traveler be fed and given a guest room at the palace while he decided what should happen next. The princess was named Arevik. She loved riddles and was curious about the Dreamer. That evening she brought him supper herself. “I will not ask about your dream,” she said. “Tell me instead—do you like riddles?” “Very much.” They began to talk often. Soon messengers from an eastern king arrived at the palace with a strange challenge. They brought a smooth stick, equally thick at both ends. “Our king asks: which is the top of this stick, and which is the bottom? If your wise people cannot tell, admit that his advisers are wiser.” The palace scholars argued for half a day. One sniffed the wood. Another measured it with thread. A third even listened to see whether the ends sounded different. Arevik told the Dreamer about the riddle. “Lay the stick on water,” he said. “The heavier, lower end will sink a little deeper.” And so it did. The next day the eastern king sent three almost identical horses and asked the palace to say which was the mother, which the older foal, and which the younger. The Dreamer advised them to set food before the horses after a night’s rest. The mare looked toward the young ones first, the older foal moved after her, and the youngest stayed nearest to its mother. That riddle was solved as well. On the third day, the messengers brought a steel shield and a spear. “Show us not strength, but understanding,” they declared. “How can the spear pass through the shield?” In the old sort of tale, this might have been a test of force. But the Dreamer examined the objects and noticed a small opening in the shield for its strap. “There is no need to break what can be understood,” he said. “Pass the narrow end of the spear through the opening.” The messengers laughed. “That is exactly the answer our king hoped to hear!” At last the prince saw that the boy was not rude, but wise. “Stay at the palace,” he offered. “Study with my advisers.” Time passed. The Dreamer and Arevik became close friends and later understood that they wanted to share their lives. But before their wedding, a message arrived again from the east. The king wished to meet the young man who had answered his three riddles. The Dreamer set out. Beyond the city he met a man lying with his ear to the ground. “What are you doing?” asked the Dreamer. “I am listening for distant sounds. The earth carries them better than the air.” “Come with me,” said the Dreamer. “Attentive ears are welcome on a journey.” Farther on they met Long-Step, who could cross a wide ravine in a single stride; Hungry-One, who always wanted one more bowl of porridge; Water-Bearer, who could drink an entire barrel of water; Strongman, who lifted heavy logs with ease; and Musician, whose melodies made even gloomy people tap their feet. So there were seven travelers. The eastern king welcomed them grandly, but decided to test whether they were truly so remarkable. First he ordered a table covered with bread, fruit, soup, and flat cakes. “If you can manage this feast,” he said, “I will recognize your endurance.” Hungry-One rubbed his hands. “At last, a task that suits me!” By evening the table was empty, and the cooks wondered about it for days. Then the king placed the guests in a large house and ordered the stoves heated until the rooms became unbearably warm. “We could use some water,” sighed the Dreamer. “That is for me,” said Water-Bearer. He brought so much from the well that the stoves cooled and the rooms became fresh. On the third day the king thought of one final test. In the courtyard lay a great stone that ten people could not move. “Carry it to the gate,” he said. Strongman lifted the stone. Long-Step found the shortest path. Listener heard a hollow place beneath the ground and guided them away from danger. And Musician played so cheerfully that even the king came out onto the steps smiling. “Enough,” said the king. “I see what matters. Each of you has your own gift, but your true strength appears when you help one another.” The king sent the Dreamer home with gifts and a letter of friendship for the prince. When the young man returned, the city held a celebration. Before long he and Arevik were married. His remarkable companions traveled onward, but visited their friends from time to time. Years passed. One evening the Dreamer sat in the garden beside his wife. Their little daughter was playing nearby, and messengers from the east had come to visit. His parents, older now, walked into the garden. Their long-ago quarrel had been forgiven. His mother smiled. “Son, do you remember the dream that started everything?” “I remember.” “Will you tell it now?” The Dreamer looked west, where the sun was setting behind the mountains, then east, where the sky still held a golden glow. “I dreamed that one sun shone to my right, another to my left, and a little star sparkled close to my heart.” His father looked puzzled. “And what did it mean?” “I did not know then. Now I think the two suns were two homes that became friends—our principality and the far kingdom. The star by my heart was the family I had not yet found.” Arevik smiled. “So that is why you kept silent for so many years?” “No,” the Dreamer laughed. “I was silent because a dream can be like a seed. If you dig up the earth every day to see whether it has sprouted, nothing will grow. You have to give it time.” Their little daughter looked up. “I dreamed something today too.” Everyone turned to her. “Will you tell us?” The girl narrowed her eyes mischievously. “Not yet.” And the garden filled with laughter.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨