There's a discussion going on in the back of my car about bad dreams. Anya is describing her dream, which involved a big white door with a white heart on it that breaks into people's homes and steals all their stuff. "It's got lots of patterns on it," she tells me.
"Can you draw it for me?" I ask.
"Yes. It's a beautiful door, but it's very mean."
"Yeah, I'd like to be on the look out for it, so would love to have your drawing."
Lily speaks up then about her own bad dream involving a little dog, a beach and a crab.
"Anya," she says, "if you have another bad dream and it wakes you up, just say, 'GO AWAY BAD DREAM' in a very angry and fierce voice."
Anya nods a solemn yes, vowing to use this technique next time.
"Does that work?" I ask, wondering if she really had found a way to banish the bads.
"No. Not for me. But it might work for Anya," she retorts.
And this is why I adore kids; there is no sense that the world works in a singular way. Just because a technique is unproven doesn't mean it won't be proven one day with another person who's chemistry might be different. It just might work for a person who is more open to it, perhaps.
Of course, I may have just smashed that for Anya by asking the question. Lily spoke with such conviction that Anya could have been totally willing to believe and therefore, it could have been the answer she needed to get through the next bad dream.
Ah well, I'll learn how to keep my mouth shut and mind open someday.