I saw an image in front of me, like a dream in the middle of the day. A little hut, thatched with straw, at the edge of a village, far away in the savannah of Africa. In front of the hut children were playing, and in the house a mother was occupied with cleaning and tidying up some things of daily life. I saw this picture, and I knew for sure: This is the family of my neighbour from Kenya. And suddenly I understood: “They’re fine”. A strange daydream – should I tell my neighbour about it? I forgot the inner image and turned towards my everyday work. Three days later I thought of this scene again, and of the sentence: “They’re fine.” Could this have any meaning? I went to my neighbour. “I must tell you something. I had a strange dream. I don’t know what you think about it…” So I told him. The man from Africa looked at me with solemn but happy eyes. Then it burst out of him: “I thank you from the bottom of my heart! My family has been writing a letter to me every day so far. But now I haven’t heard anything from them for a whole week. I have been so anxious! What you have told me is of great importance to me! Thank you…” It is as easy as this to become a postman.