You know how people say dreams mean something? I don’t know if I really believe that, but sometimes I’m very inclined to. Last night, I had the most wonderful dream about Uruguay, my country. I found myself in that dear old dance studio, and then wandered out into the daylight in Salto. I remember just walking for what seemed like a long time and I remember falling more and more in love with that city. Everything I saw held a certain enchantment for me and I wished never to leave it. I only wish I hadn’t been dreaming. There was more to the dream which would take too long to tell here but which was just as glorious as the first part of it. It was a happy dream but I woke up with a heavy heart, wishing to be there, in my country, with the green fields, the river that separated me from Argentina, the gothic buildings and cathedrals which held such magic.
I think I know now why I dreamed about Uruguay. A terrible storm ravaged some of the country and I just found out about it. I’m praying for those beloved people there going through this hardship. Please pray with me for Uruguay, my heart.
My poor country.