The Mountain Laurel
The Journal of Mountain Life

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from the
Heart of the Blue Ridge

A Sleepwalker's Dream - A True Story

By Gene Henderson © 1986

Issue: August, 1986

Once when I was a small boy about ten years old, I dreamed every night about owning a beautiful horse. We had several barns on our farm and my father was always trading horses.

One night when I was dreaming I started sleepwalking. When I awoke, I was lying in the corner of the horse barn in one of the stables.

My father was sitting beside me. I had rolled my cover from the bed and carried it with me, putting it down on the hay in the stable where the horses had been eating.

The next day my father left early and when he returned, he was leading a big black horse. He said, "If you are going to sleep in the barn, you need a friend. You must feed and water him twice a day and when you ride him, don't let him run too far and fast. You could fall off and get hurt."

I was a very happy boy, because all my friends had horses and now I had one all my own. Later on he [Father] bought my sister a horse and we had many happy hours riding.

I didn't sleepwalk much after that. Once I went to the crib in my sleep and when I woke up, I was shelling corn. Another time I went to my Uncle's house, went in and got in bed with my cousin who was the same age as me.