Everybody knows Ole Lukoie. It is he who comes to the children in the evenings and makes their heads hard to lean towards the pillows. He reveals one of his umbrellas above them and if the baby behaved well enough, he will be watching magical dreams all night long.
Ole Lugoye knows everything about children's dreams.
Of course, they are full of love and joy. Loving parents and nannies, sweet sisters and good brothers, beloved friends, favorite toys and good loving world. Children's dreams are filled with innocent children's love, and even weddings in them are innocent and funny, puppet and mouse. When a child suddenly begins to dream a pretty image-neighbor or this impossible bully-boyfriend, when in their dreams begin to break through the echoes of the coming, adult love - Ole knows that his time ends and soon bring dreams to a growing child will be quite different. And who knows about it only teenagers in love, selflessly loving newlyweds and couples, who carried love to their old age. Only they are mysterious someone opens the world of sensual, gentle and passionate dreams of love.
There were always two of them. Eternal brothers, constant in their variability. They are so different that it's hard to believe they're the same thing. That the father loves them equally, without singling them out.
The brothers knew that the father was an eternal child, and in their lifetime they had seen many children. There is not a single person in the world who hasn't even met one of them. Every night he and his father would go on another trip, playing a strictly prepared role. The one who was younger was always cheerful and good-natured. He was happy to meet somebody new or know a familiar face again. If he were a man or someone like him, he wouldn't have gotten a happy smile out of his face. His brother, on the contrary, was quiet, thoughtful and always sad. The eternal sad smile could be on his face.
The father never admitted, but he felt a little sorry for the children who were accompanied by his eldest in the night. They returned home quiet, thoughtful, and sometimes frightened. They never stayed for more than a few nights. They came to the youngest, smiling at him with that childish carelessness that does not yet know the vanities of the world.
And yet, each time, seeing the genuine delight in the eyes of his father, the brothers forgot about everything: the many centuries of wandering the world, the many children who forgot them when the time came. During their long life, the brothers have changed many faces. Although their father remained in the image of a little old man in a funny caftan, they were both dragons and swans and mice. They had the opportunity to be in the form of stones, flowers, and books. Years went by, years of fervor died out, brothers experimented less and less often with their appearance. The last three (or four, they don't count) centuries they haven't changed.
Neither the eldest nor the youngest will ever tell their father that sometimes it is very difficult for them to let go of their children, knowing that the next night they will not recognize them. The father called it the word "Grown up". The brothers did not quite understand the meaning, but they knew that they could not change anything. Sometimes children continued to get to know them all their lives and looked forward to it. They were called "Creators". Even the eternally quiet older brother rejoiced at their expectation, and the grown-up children smiled at him and his brother equally.
No one knew their names. Were they? Their father might know the answer, but he would never tell anyone. Let them know only one name better. Common ground for this family.
So today they will visit another child, cheering him up again in his sleep. You can take your time, the games have already become commonplace, and the night will not end until they have toured the world. This child is different from others. He sees his brothers together, not someone else. Therefore, the father is always slow at the crib, allowing the brothers to contribute to the baby's sleep. He will dream of them all night, amusing and gently instructing. At dawn, when the boy opens his eyes, he will not forget a single moment of his sleep. This is the gift of the brothers.
Another night. A candle burns on the table. Young Yalmar looks enthusiastically at the little man with two umbrellas - bright multicolored and very black. The man is dressed in a wonderful caftan with old clasps.