So school is on again. And we are reminded we used to be young. And we used to dream. Of changing and traveling the world. Of making the evening news. And then the years creeped up on us. Instead of the corner office, we ended up in a cubicle. Beancounters. Glorified paper-pushers barely able to look up from under the mound of ever piling menial tasks. Small town entrepreneurs in perpetual start-up phase, worrying ourselves thin about pay-roll, keeping the lights on and the tax man far, far away from us. Instead of being on top of the world, we are content with the humdrum of a mundane existence and are happiest when the rent is paid and the kids are sent to school. And now it’s their turn to dream. So we say. Fairy? Inventor? Rich (and happy), is there such a thing? These kids. But far from the crashing cymbals and drum rolls; far from the bright city lights, gleaming signage and delusions of grandeur, God speaks to us in the trenches where we scratch out a living: The thief of time comes only to steal your joy and sup the life out of you. Me? I came that you may have and enjoy life – to the full, till it overflows. And just so you know, it’s never too late to dream again.