By Pichaya Avery
A mysterious encounter at a farmers’ market proved to be prophetic, confirming a dream that began when I was two and a half years old. Even though I was a little too young to be admitted into preschool, we were fortunate to have been granted an exception. My mother owned a small restaurant. Having me around would demand too much of her time, energy, and attention, so off I went.
As I recall, we did not do much in class. What I remember most was singing “The ABC Song.” I fell in love with it the first time I heard it. Every day, I looked forward to going to school just to sing that song.
I often wondered why I lived in Thailand. This was not where I “belonged.” I should be in America speaking English. When I was in school, I frequently daydreamed about marrying an American man, having a baby boy, and living happily ever after. My imagination soared. For some reason, I had a knowingness that, when I grew up, my dream would come true.
This vision of my future life traveled back to my preschool year. I kept my sacred dream to myself and never shared it with anyone. There was no point. People would just laugh at me. They would say it was impossible for a little girl like me, who came from a lower-middle class family in Thailand, to live in America. Yet, deep in my heart, I knew it would happen.
Fast forward to when I was seven years old. On a bright summer day, I went to a farmers’ market with my mother to buy some vegetables, meats, and different kinds of herbs for the restaurant she managed. The market was overflowing with friendly people shopping for organic produce, delicious food, and desserts, as well as handcrafted products made by local artists. While wandering off and looking at colorful candies, I turned around to look for my mother but could not find her anywhere. She had disappeared into the crowd. I panicked and started crying.
My heart raced, my hands trembled, and my stomach churned. I was lost. A terrifying thought flashed through my mind: I may never see my mother again!
Suddenly, a lady with a cane strolled slowly towards me from out of the blue. When I looked up closely at her face, I noticed that she was completely blind—her eyelids were permanently closed, with deep, empty spaces beneath them where her eyes should have been. For some reason, her presence calmed me down as she consoled me with her gentle voice: “Your mom will find you. Just stay right here.”
She continued. “Let me see your hand.” With complete trust, I extended my left palm for her to hold. She smiled at me tenderly as she touched my shaky hand. “You will end up living in a different country,” she told me in her comforting voice. Then, she turned away and vanished in the crowd.
My mother found me shortly after that, just as the lady had predicted. In retrospect, I realize that the woman’s words were the Golden-tongued Wisdom. Meeting her was a prophetic waking dream confirming that my childhood dream of living in America would one day come true.
From Seven Signs from the Universe, pp. 167-8, by Michael and Pichaya Avery, Available on Amazon
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