The Dream-Child Page #4

"The Dream-Child" by Lucy Maud Montgomery is a poignant short story that explores themes of imagination, loss, and the complexity of childhood. It follows the journey of a young girl who creates a dream world filled with a fantastical companion—a dream-child—who embodies her hopes and desires. As the narrative unfolds, the girl grapples with the stark contrast between her enchanting dreams and the harsh realities of life. Their deep connection reveals insights about growing up, the power of dreams, and the bittersweet nature of fleeting innocence. Montgomery's lyrical prose captures the essence of childhood wonder while addressing the inevitable passage of time.

• Short story

								

been missing for a week, but it was so rotten and leaky he didn't
bother looking for it.  But this child, sir--it beats me.  What
might he be like?"

I described the child as closely as possible.

"That fits little Harry Martin to a hair," said old Abel,
perplexedly, "but, sir, it can't be.  Or, if it is, there's been
foul work somewhere.  James Martin's wife died last winter, sir,
and he died the next month.  They left a baby and not much else.
There weren't nobody to take the child but Jim's half-sister,
Maggie Fleming.  She lived here at the Cove, and, I'm sorry to
say, sir, she hadn't too good a name.  She didn't want to be
bothered with the baby, and folks say she neglected him
scandalous.  Well, last spring she begun talking of going away to
the States.  She said a friend of hers had got her a good place
in Boston, and she was going to go and take little Harry.  We
supposed it was all right.  Last Saturday she went, sir.  She was
going to walk to the station, and the last seen of her she was
trudging along the road, carrying the baby.  It hasn't been
thought of since.  But, sir, d'ye suppose she set that innocent
child adrift in that old leaky dory to send him to his death?  I
knew Maggie was no better than she should be, but I can't believe
she was as bad as that."

"You must come over with me and see if you can identify the
child," I said.  "If he is Harry Martin I shall keep him.  My
wife has been very lonely since our baby died, and she has taken
a fancy to this little chap."

When we reached my home old Abel recognized the child as Harry
Martin.

He is with us still.  His baby hands led my dear wife back to
health and happiness.  Other children have come to us, she loves
them all dearly; but the boy who bears her dead son's name is to
her--aye, and to me--as dear as if she had given him birth.  He
came from the sea, and at his coming the ghostly dream-child
fled, nevermore to lure my wife away from me with its exciting
cry.  Therefore I look upon him and love him as my first-born.
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