Valiant: Knock, Knock… The Sandman… The Gift… Part 3

The Sandman, In dreams through the
Light of day and darkness of night
The Stories come. Mysteries and riddles
To hide and surface with the sands of
Time for the picture that comes at the

1540, Nuremberg, Germany…in a small
Farming village outside of the city…The
Winter had been cold and quiet, then the
Snows came in late January and they

Brought heavy drifts and winds. Bitter
Temperatures fell upon the country-side,
Freezing into February. In the modest
Home of Helmut Gregor, a family
Anxiously awaited the birth of
Their first born. After a long agonizing
Night of labor, Helmut’s young wife
Anna finally delivered a baby boy. A
Healthy round-faced hopeful new life
They named Johannes.

Everyone was excited for what would
Hopefully be the beginning of a large
Family, a legacy to build a farm with.
Anna’s older parents had already moved
In with the couple as tough times forced
Them to abandon their own farm since
Their eldest son Karl had moved farther
East to build a life on his own and
Their other children had died in strange
Accidents before they could marry.
Families, then, were a key source of survival,
As the young cared for the old and the strongest
Were the providers.

Expectations were very high with Johannes,
Whom they called Jon for short. It
As the rules of birth for the men to be
The workers, the builders, the farmers, the
Everything a family needed. And while he was
Just a baby, more would be planned, no doubt.
Little Jon had very high standards to meet
Being the first born. Unfortunately, as he
Grew…it became clear that Jon was more
Awkward than robust. As a toddler, he was
Fine…but by the age of 4, he
Proved to be clumsy and timid, and
Had problems talking. This only grew
Worse over time…his slurred speech
And wobbly feet roved to be a
Serious disappointment.

Helmut was a tall, very strong, hardy
Proud man, well known for working hard.
Among his peers and the local villagers, he
Often held the nickname, “Stone”, because
He could be a very abrasive man. The sight
Of having such a possible feeble son beside
Him made him frown constantly and walk
Away from the boy.

Anna’s parents were even more harsh. Her
Father Otto, had been well known for his
Crudeness as well – he was an unhappy man,
And worked his children hard on their farm. Her
Mother, Mila, was also a harsh woman. She
Had been beautiful when she was young, but a
Hard working life as a farmer’s life had made
Her more of an iron maiden than a blissful
Home-maker. They were very opinionated
And came across cold too often, hard lives
Had a way of doing that to people. Hope
And dreams become lost in a field of survival
And reality…But that was the nature of
The age.

“Poor Helmut,” Otto would say, “To have such
A son…He must have hoped for more. Oh well,
The boy’s only your first child…you can always
Try again.”

And Anna would sigh, she had been beaten
Down her whole life by her parents; they had
Always expected more from her too. But she
Didn’t care, Jon was her baby and she loved
Him regardless, as any mother would. But she
Was so shy, she kept quiet and rarely spoke
Up for herself; it was an age of absolute
Obedience in families then…families always
Came first.

Mila, her mother, was a bit kinder but still harsh.
“Your next son will be stronger. Helmut is such
A strong man – he is sure to produce a good son.”

There were no arguments, only gentle
Defense. You never talked back to your parents
Then. It was always, “Yes Papa, Yes Mama.”
Love was conditional with approval of
Actions and displays of worth. At least
In this family, it was regimented…but there
Were always rumors of other kind and
Loving families; that was a dream, of course.

But the more little Jon kept talking, the
Stranger the words came out of his mouth.
He would mumble things about things he
Saw that no one else did. And talked about
Dreams he had…that came true. And he
Also began scribbling images in the dirt for
No reason…designs that made no sense,
Which his mother and grandmother noticed
Mostly as they were primarily alone with him.

“Anna,” her mother would whisper even though
They were alone, “You have to make Jon stop
Doling this. If anyone sees?! He says
Things before they happen, my mother
And her mother were like this. It’s a
Family curse. It’s against God! Make
Him stop doing it.”

But Anna was fascinated by it and only
Quietly questioned it. “What’s wrong with it?
It’s not hurting anyone. He’s just a little
Boy, he can’t help it.”

“Make him stop, Anna.” Her mother only
Said.” It isn’t right, it’s against God to be
This way. It’s bad for him…if anyone sees,
I’m afraid for him.” Then Mila would take
Little Jon aside and tell him, “Now Jon
You have to stop drawing pictures like that
Or God won’t love you, God doesn’t like these
Things, they’re evil. And I can’t love you
If you make God angry…Don’t you want
Grandma to love you? You have to stop drawing
Pictures like that…Draw a fish, or a bear
Or a nice horse, draw animals. Do not draw
Pictures like that or God will be very angry
At you.”

This terrified little Jon, and he would
Cry. “Yes, Grandma, OK. I won’t
Draw those pictures, only animals.” But
That only scared him to draw anything
At all.

But still little Jon couldn’t help talking or
Dreaming…and he kept saying strange things.
“How did you know that the cow would
Give no milk or that the neighbors
Were coming over to ask for butter Jon?”
His mother would ask. And he
Would answer, “I just know.”

The women kept hiding this from the men. “Make
Him stop, Anna. Make him stop saying things
Like that. People will notice.”

“I can’t Mama, I don’t know how.” Jon
Would say.

Then his Grandmother would take him aside
And tell him strictly, “Jon, you have
To stop saying things like that. Or God
Will be very angry with you. And if God
Is angry with you, I will be very angry
With you too and I can’t love you
Anymore. Don’t you want Grandma to
Love you, Jon? You have to stop saying
These things.”

“Yes, Grandma, OK.” Little Jon would say
Terrified. “But how?”

“Just don’t talk at all.” His grandmother
Would tell him. “If you can’t say nice
Things then don’t talk at all. Say only
Nice things or don’t talk at all.”

Then Jon would nod. Yes, ok Grandma, only
Nice things.”

This sort of programming went on for
Months…until one Christmas Eve, when
Jon was 5 years old…there were the
Sounds of bells and a shimmering light
Appeared by his bed while he slept
And this beautiful woman appeared dressed
In white; a robe like uniform…And
She greeted him kindly and smiled with
A warmth unlike he ever knew. She
Was so kind and strong…it was the most
Amazing thing he had ever seen!

This woman bathed in this magical light
Said she had come to visit him, to be
His friend, to help him. That was all he
Needed to know…and to believe, to always
Believe no matter what. And somehow, he
Knew that would always be true…but
It also frightened him down deep inside too.
Then she was gone…but the memory
ALWAYS stayed kindly in his mind.

Of course, little Jon was eager to share this
With his family. It was such a nice thing,
It couldn’t be bad to do…So he told them
The next morning…But it was Christmas,
So, they just laughed it off, saying “Oh, that’s nice…
What a nice story.” A safe thing to say, finally.

But as time went on, Jon still had
To be very careful talking and what to do.
No drawing, no making mistakes. They
Were constantly correcting him on how
To walk straight, how to stand…how
Not to be so clumsy. He was an idiot
mostly, because only idiots make mistakes
And can’t talk right; especially at 5
Years old.

Months kept passing and still he
Couldn’t walk right or talk right. His
Father became so impatient that he began
Whipping him every time he made a mistake.
If he walked wrong, stood wrong, knocked
Something over, his father said it was on
Purpose. “You are too old for making mistakes,
You have to learn…”

With each mistake came punishment and
The lecture and the whippings…” You were
Put on this world to be strong. Now learn.
You will learn to take a beating because
That’s what men are for…life is hard,
Deal with it. If you cry, I will hit
You harder, life will hit you harder…
If you move, I will hit you harder,
Life will hit you harder. You will take
Your beatings quietly and you will not make
A move. Do you understand?”

There was no option, deal with it. So, Jon
Learned to obey silently. This was obedience
In the old-world families.

And that was the life he knew, strict
Obedience, conditional love…everything was
About rules to follow. There was no choice,
As his grandmother would say. “This is the
Life God has intended for us, for you. Life
Is hard, life will always be hard.”

Soon then, Anna became pregnant again…
And there was much hope. Maybe a better
Child would come! But secretly, little Jon always
Remained the same…He had dreams
And visions and saw things, saw things
Before they happened. He kept it all to
Himself though. Keep it secret, or else
God and his grandmother would be angry.
Remember the conditions.

Once in a while, he would slip however,
And he would see the stars that moved
In the night sky; everyone did. And he
Would see things he could not understand; shadows
Moved, and whispers…Strange shapes in
The skies…He would ask his grandmother,
“What are those stars that move?”

“That is God’s way of telling us he is
Up there watching us. He moves the stars
Around to let us know he is there.”
Grandma would say.

But little Jon knew they were something
More. Something he could not understand yet.
He said nothing. It was safer not to.

That summer, after Jon turned 6, he
Was playing by the meadow with some toys
His grandfather carved for him. He was still
Very clumsy, but was always trying
So hard to walk straight and talk right…
He wanted desperately to be like the other
Kids he had seen at church who never
Talked to him, that could run and
Jump and play so free. He had seen
The way the other boys climbed trees and
Hung from their legs upside down, so he
Had to try it.

He climbed up a thick leafy tree with a
Low bow nearby…crawled out on its
Limb and tried to imitate what he had
Seen the other boys do. But his knees
Were clumsy, and the branch too thick…
So, when he tried to hang, he slipped and
Fell and landed on his head with his
Mouth open and tongue sticking out…
And nearly bit his tongue off…

Dazed and confused, his mouth full of blood
And pouring down his neck and chest…he
Crawled, then scrambled back home…
Horrifying everyone. The sight of him
Frightened his family so, they panicked
“Call the healer!” His grandmother
Insisted. And they did…only to fret
And panic even more. What they
Found was unsure…most assumed the
Worst (it depends on the healer). “It
May have to come off,” The medical
Medic said. “I will have to see how
It heals.”

The family was scared and disappointed.
First, he couldn’t talk and then the boy
Would be mute. How tragic and awful’
Hopefully their second child would turn out
Much better. Again silently, keeping it
To himself, little Jon was terrified to death.
Maybe he was a cursed idiot after all. He
Didn’t know what to do but pray to God
For forgiveness and a miracle.

“See,” his grandparents would say, “This
Is what happens when you do not
Speak right and do stupid things. God is
Punishing you! Pray for forgiveness, and
Maybe if you are a good boy and try
Harder, God will let you talk again.”

Jon prayed and prayed, all that he ever
Did was pray and hope for a miracle.
Hope for better, to be better…to understand
Why this was life. He wasn’t allowed
To speak, and when he did, no one
Listened or understood. For weeks he
Kept his mouth completely shut…
The burden of eating was pure pain…
Only milk and eggs.
He could barely swallow – and even
That meant swallowing blood. There
Could be nothing savory or sweet or
Salty…that was AGONY…His eyes
Would roll and swell, thoughts pushed
From his head by a mouth that would
Not work. Silent pain. Cannot speak
Nor say a word…because the tongue
Might move and split back open…
It would heal and rip open over
And over again…Blinding pain, rolling
Pain to numbness and no thoughts.
Tears that came from nowhere,
And no choices. Don’t move the mouth,
Don’t speak, don’t talk, don’t slide
The tongue. Eat as little as possible,
And bite or chew sideways around the
Teeth, as far away from the tongue as possible.
Chew slowly, swallow fast…Drink
From the left or right and always
Lift your head to swallow. Hold the
Jaw still and keep the tongue still
Until it heals…bite a pillow or a
Cloth for stability when the jaw locks…
A six-year-old can learn fast…

No matter what, keep the mouth
Closed…because that’s when the monsters
Come out…at night when you can’t
Scream. When the ghosts and shadow
People in the walls grin as if they were
Waiting when Jon could absolutely make
No sound at all…They could do anything
When you can’t make a sound.

Prayers became panic that cried out
Silently as the weeks went on…
That brought the mysterious
Christmas visitor back…

And when she appeared with concern,
Somehow, she had heard…The shock on her
Face. “What a world of IDIOTS!” She
Said to some person out of view.
“What savage! I want to take him with us.
This world is going to destroy him!”

“No, they will never allow it.” A mysterious
Man’s voice said. “No, this is his place…
He has something to do here.”

“This is cruel, this will ruin him.” The
Blond woman in the circle of light said.
“How can you agree to this?”

“Agree?” The man said. “This is not my rule,
I made no rules here. We came to see,
To point a direction. That is all!”

“This is unbelievable.” She said with
Painful fear and worry for the little boy
She barely knew; yet somehow, she knew
His life so well. “How can these things
Happen? How many are there like this?
This is awful.”

“Their history is an agonizing mess of
Struggles and untold stories.” The man
Hidden out of view said sadly. “It is
A miracle they survived, progressed at all.
Just wait until they find an age of
Science and technology. It will be worse.”

“I can’t stand this.” The woman said near
Tears, watching the little boy sensing the
Torrid of emotions locked inside him.
“All that potential destroyed…and they
Don’t see it.”

“And yet you heard him, found him.” The
Man said with praise. “He has a gift that
Reaches far. Admirable.”

“We should take him. I want to take
Him.” She said. “There is nothing
For him here. He thinks he’s an idiot.
Unbelievable. We can’t let that happen.”

Little Jon shivered, listening to them talk,
They spoke a strange tongue…yet the
Voices of theirs in his head made perfect
Sense…A telepathic connection.

Then there was a silent, or rather more
Secret exchange among the strange visitors…
No sense of threat, just decisions. Moments
Of haze within a light, and then a vibration.
The room changed to that of a very sterile-like
Environment. They had taken Jon to
Their vessel, to some sort of private
Room – living quarters, where he lay on
A bed comfortably…calmly sedate just
Listening and watching.

It was there more of those tall handsome
Looking blond strangers appeared…examining
Him, recording data on him…and then
Using odd looking instruments to help
Repair his tongue quickly.

The woman comforted Jon and began
Sharing brief stories of who she was
And who they were…She introduced herself
As a Godmother to him, a friend to
Help him…She told him strongly
And kindly that he was not stupid at
All, just different and misunderstood.
“Unfortunately, people have a way of
Attacking things they don’t understand…
It happens everywhere…And these people,
Her people, try to help that where
And when they can. “You need to
Believe that Jon. You need to believe
Others will try to break that in you.
Don’t let them. Just ignore and get away
From them…But unfortunately there
Are other no-Physical Forces out there,
BAD ones that will want to hurt and
Use that…and be drawn to it.” And
She explained to his mind without words…
Of these entities that were attacking
Him…and how they use others to do this.
You have to try and fight that, you
Have to.”

Then she and her people showed him
Things around their ship…all manners
Of strange things…rooms with pictures
That moved and strange writings he
Didn’t understand. Views of the universe,
And planets and how they moved. And
A view of how his world appeared
From far away. He was spellbound.

And they told him about the future, of
A world in the future in peril, in
Change…and of a distant future where
All things were so much better and
Fantastic and how one day it would
All make sense…They kept talking about
The future…

It was a lot for a 6-year-old to grasp.
Yet somehow it made sense…their sincerity
Made it so. He did believe them.

Then the woman told him that she
Had to take him home, that he would
Be better now. And that they had
Done something to help make the entities
Stop attacking him, that he needed to
Forget…to forget and not talk about
It to be better…And to keep all that
He had been shown and told a secret,
For his safety. Because people would
Never understand what happened, what
Might happen.

In a flash, it was all gone and he was
Awake laying in his bed at home. It
Was gone. Was it a dream? But then he
Felt his mouth and tongue move, there was
No pain…He ran to the kitchen where his
Mother was preparing breakfast and his
Father and grandparents sat waiting for the
Mel and making plans for the day.

“Mama, Mama!” Jon shouted, rather normally…
Too normally… “I had the strangest
Dream!” He was so excited that it
Shocked everyone. And he had been
So silent for so long since he had bitten
His tongue to see if it would heal, their
Eyes bulged. His speech had improved a lot.

Anna held her son with a smile. “It’s so
Nice to hear you speak! Calm down now,
Calm down.”

Jon went on to tell his family about his
Dream and the strange visitors, of how
They had fixed his tongue – and fixed him
So better. He even stood taller, walked
Straighter, it was very clear. But the
Dream he described was just…unbelievable,
And while they were happy to hear him
Speak and look better…no matter what
They saw or heard, they just dismissed
It as his imagination. He had simply
Recovered with rest, that was all.

Jon kept repeating the story so often that
Over time it began to irritate his
Father and grandfather – while his mother
And grandmother knew there was
More there, they were afraid to see
It or acknowledge it. To silence him
Finally, his father gave him a whipping
And ordered him to stop making up
Stories. He rather preferred the boy be quiet.
“Stop talking, stop telling stories…Nothing
Happened boy, nothing. No one need to
Hear this.”

So, Jon went silent, and tried to say nice
Things like his grandmother said…and
Prayed and prayed for it all to go away.




  1. Great story Valiant! Poor little Jon, if only there were still special healers around today to heal the rest of us, hmmmm

  2. For finishing my dreamflight log of Jan. 26-27th, 2019, looking for some pictures, I once was so caught up by this one which reminds me of Valiant’s prophetic stories.

    St. Peter, an art print by awanqi – INPRNT

    May the suffering of the boy be healed, comforted and the stories inspire more and more ones from the dogmatic thoughts, then the born to be terrestrial ANGELS FLY !!!

  3. Thank you, Dreamwalker and Valiant! Nurmeburg 1540 was not so different than today, was it? Brings back memories of my own childhood as well as raising my son with Autism. Blessings are hard to see, sometimes…

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