A Winter Dream

A Winter Dream - By Richard Paul Evans



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


This book came to me at a difficult time. I would like to thank all those who helped me through it, beginning with my long-suffering and beloved wife, Keri, who dealt with my daily stress and middle-of-the-night panic attacks. Thanks to my daughter and talented writing assistant Jenna Evans Welch for her constant brilliance; my agent, Laurie Liss; and my editor, Trish Todd, for her patience and valuable coaching. Also, my friend, and copy editor, Gypsy da Silva—let’s hit Little Brazil next time I’m in New York.

I’m grateful for the ongoing support of my publisher—Simon & Schuster, specifically Jonathan Karp, Richard Rhorer and Carolyn Reidy.

On the home front, a big thanks to the rest of the family—David Welch, Allyson, Abigail, McKenna and Michael. Also, my assistant Diane Elizabeth Glad, Barry Evans, Heather McVey, Doug Osmond and Karen Christoffersen.

A special thank you to my dear friend Karen Roylance for her encouragement and support at a critical time in this book’s development.

I would also like to thank the fine people at Leo Burnett Chicago—a true Humankind agency—who lived up to their stellar reputation in every way. I could not have chosen a finer agency to base my story around. I hope you all enjoy the book. More specifically, a special thanks to Leo Burnett’s Tina Stanton and Kim Kauffman for welcoming me to your home and the tour of the Leo Burnett facilities.

I also wish to thank the infamous Bill Young for showing me Chicago in all her splendor.





To my brothers: David, Scott, Mark, Boyd, Van and Barry





Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his children, because he was the son of his old age: and he made him a coat of many colours.

And when his brethren saw that their father loved him more that all his brethren, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably unto him.

And Joseph dreamed a dream, and he told it his brethren: and they hated him yet the more.

And he said unto them, Hear, I pray you, this dream which I have dreamed:

For, behold, we were binding sheaves in the field, and, lo, my sheaf arose, and also stood upright; and, behold, your sheaves stood round about, and made obeisance to my sheaf.

And his brethren said to him, Shalt thou indeed reign over us? or shalt thou indeed have dominion over us? And they hated him yet the more for his dreams, and for his words.

And he dreamed yet another dream, and told it his brethren, and said, Behold, I have dreamed a dream more; and behold, the sun and the moon and the eleven stars made obeisance to me.

And he told it to his father, and to his brethren: and his father rebuked him, and said unto him, What is this dream that thou hast dreamed? Shall I and thy mother and thy brethren indeed come to bow down ourselves to thee to the earth?

And his brethren envied him; but his father observed the saying.

And his brethren went to feed their father’s flock in Shechem.

And Israel said unto Joseph, Do not thy brethren feed the flock in Shechem? come, and I will send thee unto them. And he said to him, Here am I.

And he said to him, Go, I pray thee, see whether it be well with thy brethren, and well with the flocks; and bring me word again. So he sent him out of the vale of Hebron, and he came to Shechem. . . .

And Joseph went after his brethren, and found them in Dothan.

And when they saw him afar off, even before he came near unto them, they conspired against him to slay him.

And they said to one another, Behold, this dreamer cometh.

Come now therefore, and let us slay him, and cast him into some pit, and we will say, Some evil beast hath devoured him: and we shall see what will become of his dreams.

—Genesis 37,

King James Version





PROLOGUE


Life is the soil, our choices and actions the sun

and rain, but our dreams are the seeds.

Joseph Jacobson’s Diary





My name is Joseph Jacobson, though most call me by my initials, J.J. For better or worse, I’ve also been called a dreamer. I take this as a compliment. I’ve always been fascinated by dreams. Both kinds: the kind we create with our hearts and the kind that come to us in the night when our mental gates are unlocked and unguarded.

Throughout history, dreams have been a source of wonder to humanity. Some of the world’s greatest authors, musicians, scientists and inventors have credited dreams with revealing ideas that have changed the world.

Some believe that dreams are the very secret to understanding life. Others, like the ancient Toltecs, believed that life itself is a dream.

The story I’m about to share with you begins with a dream. A Winter Dream. One night I dreamt of myself walking through a dark, snow-blanketed forest. I came upon a tree covered with brilliant, colorful lights—like a Christmas tree. Surrounding the tree, in a perfect circle, were eleven other trees.

Then, a great storm arose. Snow whited out all the forest except for the illumination of the one tree. When morning came and the wind stopped, the eleven trees were bent, bowing toward the tree of light.

Whether the dream was prophetic or the cause of all that happened, I’ll never know. But for years I kicked myself for telling the dream to my father, who, for reasons I still can’t understand, chose to share it with my eleven brothers.