by Craig Wiesner – San Mateo Daily Journal – January 13, 2025
I had a dream. On New Year’s morning, after being awakened by explosions all around our neighborhood just after midnight, and worrying about how terrified our poor dog might have been, I was relieved that she and my husband were in another room with Derrick’s improvised sound machine blaring, loud enough to mask the fireworks. I fell back asleep and had this vivid dream.
I was in a large room with a long table. Dozens of Palestinians were seated at the table, mostly very old or very young. One of my dearest friends was standing near the head of the table, helping serve food, plates filled with lentils and rice. Somehow I knew that the room we were in would soon be engulfed in flames. An elderly man seated across from me kept telling me that I didn’t need to stay. I could and should leave. Everyone at the table was going to die, but I didn’t have to. I didn’t want to die, especially in flames, but how could I walk away from these people? I stood up and started to speak and several of the people across the table took out their smartphones and started to record me. “Please, listen to me. I’m nobody, but I’m here for some reason. All I want to do is eat some of those lentils and that rice, just like you. But…”
Fireworks outside rocked our house and I woke up. Why did I have that dream? I rarely have such vivid dreams, at least few that I remember. What was I supposed to do with it? Was I supposed to write about it? Did I have something prophetic to say? Or was it a sign that in the coming year I should do more work on peacemaking? Should I just keep it to myself? I fell asleep and dreamed again. This time I was hosting an event at our shop and spotted my dear friend standing alone in another room. I rushed to take her aside to tell her about my dream but as soon as I started to talk a group of people surrounded us, all people who had devoted their lives to peacemaking. They were waiting to hear whatever it was I was about to say. I was not going to be able to keep this dream a secret.
So if this nobody, this gay Jewish man whose father, an American soldier who arrived on the shores of France the day WWII ended and wound up being one of the last Jews at Dachau, whose husband’s Japanese-American father was interned during WWII, who served in the military for eight years and believed might made right, who soon after becoming a civilian sat on the floor of a house in El Salvador with survivors of their civil war, and later in the rubble of Afghanistan in 2002 and saw the devastation such thinking on all sides wrought, who mourned the passing of Jimmy Carter during the day and dreamed of a coming firestorm that night, if he had such a dream and needed to say something, what would he have to say? As I waited for sleep to come again I came up with what my speech in front of those smartphones would be and here it is.
Hamas – free the remaining hostages and lay down your weapons. Palestinians, continue your struggle for freedom and statehood, embracing nonviolence in the tradition of Gandhi and Martin Luther King. Israel – cease fire, allow humanitarian aid, and help rebuild Gaza. World – stop hurting each other and listen, work together with Israelis, Palestinians, and peaceful neighbors to grant those who identify as Palestinians lives of dignity, respect and peace, citizenship in an independent self-governing state, and let Israelis live in peace with security, dignity and respect. Iran and Lebanon – mind your own business.
As we honor former President Jimmy Carter, I can’t think of anything more appropriate to happen in the world than for the firestorm that has engulfed Israelis and Palestinians to stop, permanently, and for this time to mark the beginning of a new era of peace and prosperity for the people in that beleaguered land. And may peace spread across our entire planet, propelled by one dream at a time, dreams made real by people who believe in the goodness of humanity and the endless possibilities of love in action.
This week I’m off to visit the newest member of my clan, the first of the next generation of my family tree, a wide-eyed six month old. Perhaps I was at that table for him, for the world he will inherit. Perhaps a dream is just a dream. Or is it? As we say during the passing of the peace at our church, may peace be with you.
Craig Wiesner is the co-owner of Reach And Teach Books Toys and Gifts in San Carlos California