The Gifts of Dreams

Dreams, these seemingly magical words, have always captivated me. What are dreams? Are they those that can be described in words? Are they dreams that need to be realized through action? Or are they dreams that remain out of reach no matter what? I think everyone has their own unique definition of a dream. And in my heart, dreams have bestowed upon me incredibly precious gifts.

“Commanding the land and inspiring literature; once, I despised the wealth of those who held high positions,” this was Mao Zedong’s ambitious vision; “I once dreamed that rice would grow as tall as sorghum and the rice ears as large as brooms,” this was Yuan Longping’s idealistic passion for scientific research; “The mountain never tires of being high, and the sea never tires of being deep,” this reflected Cao Cao’s desire to attract talented individuals. These were their dreams, and in the end, they also received the rewards that come with realizing those dreams.
From the very beginning of my speech development, it was my mother who taught me the meaning of “dream.” She helped me understand how to move forward and strive on the path ahead. She also told me that not all dreams must be fulfilled, but they should always exist and for which we should fight. Even if we don’t achieve our goals, there’s no regret, because having tried means there are no regrets left. At that moment, I understood that the dreams my mother taught me were about the power of dreaming itself.
As I started to walk unsteadily, the dreams my mother spoke of were no longer just personal aspirations; they became part of a grander dream—the Chinese Dream of the great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation! I can’t fathom the vastness of this dream, but I still hold it in my heart with passion and have a goal, just as my mother taught me.
I don’t know how much time has passed, but my mother taught me another dream: one that hopes for my healthy growth and happiness. I understand this dream, yet I don’t quite see why it’s different from the ones she had taught me before.
Later on, my doubts began to be answered. As a child, I believed in these dreams without fully understanding them; I followed them despite not comprehending them, and I worked hard despite the difficulties. As I grew up, I naturally learned how to strive for them. But my mother’s concern for my well-being remained unchanged; she hoped for my healthy growth and a happy life. As I aged, I needed to learn to be independent and self-reliant, and her worries evolved from something recognized by many to a delicate care that only a mother could understand.
The dreams in my heart are gifts from my mother. Whether they are grand ideals or as insignificant as dust, they all leave indelible marks on my soul. This is my dream—perhaps not as magnificent as those of great men, but it has given me incredibly precious gifts!