The yellow Podracer sped through the desert, kicking up dust. Sunlight bounced off the massive engines. Flames shot from the afterburners.
Anakin Skywalker sat at the controls. He pushed the throttle. The Pod leaped forward. It flew past the other racers and screamed across the finish line.
The other racers weren't even close.
The crowd cheered and ran onto the field. They lifted Anakin onto their shoulders and carried him to the winner's circle. A wise man and an angel were waiting for him there.
Jabba the Hutt raised Anakin's arm in victory. The cheers grew louder.
Then he heard his mother's voice. "Time to get up!"
Anakin opened his eyes, surprised to find himself in bed.
It was a dream, he realized. What an amazing dream!
He had finally won a Podrace. But who were those strangers in my dream? he wondered.
"Anakin! Don't be late for work!"
Anakin's smile turned into a frown.
It was just another day of work in Watto's junk shop. Another day as a slave.
But life wasn't all bad. He could smell something wonderful--his mother was cooking his favorite breakfast.
Anakin greeted his mother, Shmi, at the kitchen table.
As he ate, he thought about his dream.
"Are there really angels?" Anakin asked.
Shmi sat down next to her son. "There are so many stars that anything is possible," she said. "Even angels."
"Space pilots say angels live on the Moons of Iego," Anakin said. "They are so pretty they can make a spice pirate cry."
"Well, maybe you will meet an angel someday," said Shmi. "But right now, Watto will be angry at you if you're late."
Anakin hugged his mother.
"Be careful, Annie," Shmi whispered, holding him tightly. "And don't work too late."
Anakin laughed. "That's up to Watto."