The afternoon sun brim over the church hall, through the space between the iron railed window grilles.  Looking out from the window covered with climbing morning glories, on the old brick wall parked a small mantis.

This mantis is so small and frail, he leaped while the wind blows, picking himself up over and over again against the wind.  This garden with a pond is surrounded with fragrant flowers enriched with fertile soil, conclusively with this little mantis who was injured through his fall but never succumb to his collapse.

Friends, your name is “DREAM”

With you, saplings thrive and sprout year after year.

With you, failure is no longer an easy compromise.

With you, the wings of a dream turn stronger.

With you, countenance of the youth loses its silhouette of frustration.  The forlorn feels warm in blizzard nights.