The other night I had a vivid dream. Ever since I was very young (6 or 7), nearly every dream I have remembered has involved some kind of corrupt government. Go figure.
Anyway, the dream started with Ellie and me in a concentration camp. There were many women there with their children. The men were held elsewhere. By chance, Ellie and I were able to escape. I remember running barefoot down a gravel road with her, trying to get away from the guards who were chasing us. Ellie complained about how the rocks hurt her little bare feet, and I wondered whether it would be kinder to let her slow down and risk getting caught, to force her to run as fast as possible, or to pick her up and carry her (which would also slow us down). I can still see the large, sharp gravel and the fields on both sides of the road...
I don't remember how, but we escaped the guards and miraculously met up with Mike. We didn't know how to find an American Embassy, so we headed for the nearest LDS chapel. (Apparently my subconscious sees the church as a refuge from corruption and evil.) As we expected, the members of the local ward were actively hiding and smuggling out families who were in danger from the government. I remember feeling incredibly grateful for the people who put everything on the line for us.
Our new friends were helping us find hiding places in the church building when we heard sirens outside and it became evident that the secret police had discovered that we were there. Mike hid on the bottom level of the building while Ellie and I hid upstairs. We heard the police yelling downstairs and knew they had discovered Mike. Then, someone saw me through a window and they came looking for us. Ellie was hiding on one side of the hall and I was hiding on the other. I had told her that it was vitally important that she stay completely silent, but she was so scared that she couldn't help whimpering a bit. The police came down the hall and I knew they would find us, so I stepped out and making the same kind of sound Ellie was, hoping they wouldn't notice her. Police were yelling and it was noisy and chaotic and I was terrified and couldn't tell what exactly was happening. There was so much noise everywhere...
A policeman put a pistol to my head and I knew it was the end. For a moment I thought desperately how much I wished this was all a dream, just a bad dream. I wondered what my life meant and who would remember me, and it occurred to me that I'd just had the bad luck to live when and where I did. In a way, my life was meaningless. Somewhere, someone in a safe, peaceful country would think about me and others like me and would feel sad and sympathetic for a moment, and then would forget us and push us out of mind because it's easier to think of nicer things.
All of this passed through my mind as I saw the barrel of that gun and wondered if my daughter would survive. And then the policeman pulled the trigger and I woke up.
..............
... And now here I am, living that dream in a way. Except that I am the one in the safe, peaceful country, while some other mother is in a war-torn nation with a gun at her head, her husband dead, and her child about to be discovered. There are so many mothers like her, and it is only luck that gives her the bad end of the stick and gives me my comfortable, peaceful life.
Will I just push these women out of mind? It's so much easier to think of nicer things.
