The train had just pulled into the station. As usual, there were hawkers in the platform. The mother bought the evening newspaper — their destination was still nearly an hour away. On the front page there was a photo of a long-haired man with round glasses. The boy was about to ask the mother if he could have some candy when he noticed the tears on the mother’s eyes.
He then realised it wasn’t only his mother that was crying, the pretty lady sitting next to her was also weeping. And his father, who almost always wore a warm smile, looked upset.
The boy asked the father why everyone was sad. The father explained that people were sad because a great man had been killed.
Why was the dead man great, the boy asked.
The father explained that the man was a visionary who asked us to imagine that there was no heaven, or hell and no country that people would kill or die for.
You may say he was a dreamer, but he was not the only one. I hope some day we’ll join him, and the world will live as one.