Dream Box

The last time I traveled to the East Coast alone, I returned by way of a connection in Denver. At the airport, I wandered around a quaint gift shop that featured an array of personalized trinkets. My daughter is forever searching, often in vain, to find her name on pens, mugs, and mini license plates. At the gift shop, I saw a rotating rack displaying tiny wooden boxes, each one small enough to fit in a child's palm. To my surprise, there was a whole row of boxes engraved with Ella's name, in cursive, above a detailed, mountainous landscape. Beneath the landscape, in all caps: COLORADO. When I arrived home, I gave Ella her gift. Only mildly excited (maybe she was hoping for a mini license plate, or even better, something soft and fuzzy she could cuddle), she dutifully read the label: Dream Box. On the back of the label are these instructions: "Write a wish on a piece of paper and put it inside your box. Every night at bed time, hold your Dream Box and think of your dream. Legend has it, if done faithfully your dream will come true." Ella tore a corner off of a sheet of paper and scribbled secretly in pencil. Then she showed me her wish: Make my mom nicer.