posted on Nov, 18 2005 @ 11:42 PM
I have a few, from a warm and nostalgic place named Pleasantville.
Despite the oppressive crush of cynicism from people who habitually see life’s glass as being half empty, I will take this opportunity to stand
as a champion, a bulwark, a veritable literary vanguard in an ongoing effort to vanquish such contemptible assaults on humanity. In turn I hope to
alert you, the dear reader, as to what will be.
In 2006 I predict there will be warm sunny days set against a buttery afternoon sky in which a father will watch his son catch their first fish. I
predict flowers will smell sweeter this year, and a young girl will catch her first butterfly. This year the scent of fresh-cut hay will be carried on
an aromatic breeze so heavy with warm and nostalgic memories they’ll need to be pulled aside by a team of horses.
As it has done for a millennium snow will fall in Pleasantville this coming year, and from it will spring the laughter of children as snowmen bounce
to life while rust-worn sleigh-runners are polished like new during madcap rides down snow packed hills. Ah yes, a new year in Pleasantville, can you
feel it? As our hearts and hearths glow warm with hope eternal even the coldest of souls must give way to the inspiration of promise.
I see a father this year will “find the time,” and in doing so he’ll “remember” how important and loved he felt when his father did
I see spoons of cake mix being sought by mommy’s helpers while mothers, as they have selflessly done for years, prepare food for a family picnic.
I predict a young father, while looking into his newborn’s eyes, will have an epiphany in which he’ll finally understand why he’d sometimes find
his father smiling at him with tear-streaked cheeks.
This year, as in years-gone-by, neighbors will selflessly help those less fortune for no other reason than to lighten someone’s load, and in doing
so they’ll discover how their parents found true richness in life.
I predict a young princess will hug a Knight in Shining Armor for an act of uncommon love and sacrifice, and despite possessing extraordinary valor
her father will not be able to stem his tears.
I predict a father’s daughter, who’s fought a historic battle with depression will win her fight and will live on as a heroine with an
unprecedented drive to help others.
I predict a soldier will lower his unfired weapon from an enemy target thinking only God and he will know.
I predict a man will say to a nurse, “No, it’s okay, I’ll feed her - she’s my mother.”
I predict a musician will complete their song, a writer their book, a man his family, a woman a man, a puppy a boy.
I predict a gravely ill woman will turn her head from a hospital bed to recognize her long departed husband extending his hand from eternity asking
for hers one final time.
Yes, next year will pretty much be the same as last; frogs will jump, birds will sing, and bees will collect honey. And as we come to strengthen the
bond of humanity through love, we’ll come to understand why we are so important to each other.