The dreams of All Hallows night are supposed to hold meanings and portents. I dearly hope mine doesn’t qualify. Here’s a look into my anxious and twisted brain: I spent the night running from the Taliban. I would wake up, breathe a sigh of relief that the dream was over, and fall right back to sleep and into the same dream again.
Today is All Saints Day. Here are some of my personal saints:
All Saints Gratitude List:
1. Harriet Tubman, who followed her dreams out of darkness, but who didn’t stop there. No she didn’t stop there. She walked back into the darkness, back into the nightmare and brought so many back with her.
2. Dirk Willems, 16th century Anabaptist martyr, who took his chance for escape when the lake froze by the tower where he was being held for refusing to recant his beliefs. Months of deprivation had made him thin and lean, and he skidded across the ice to safety and freedom. His well-fed pursuer, however, broke through the ice and started to drown. Dirk Willems ran back across the ice and saved the man’s life. He was re-captured and later put to death.
3. Rumi, because his words are sublime.
4. Wangari Maathai, who planted trees in Kenya, because the Earth needs trees to breathe and because women need sustaining work of their own to support their families, particularly when they are alone. So she brought women together into supportive communities, where they supported themselves on the stipends they received from planting trees.
5. Jane Addams, suffragist, social worker, agent of change.