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Harula’s GLADvent Calendar


December 18

Let your hopes, not your hurts, shape your future. (Robert H. Schuller)

HOPE… The unseen thing that keeps people plodding along long after they should have given up. HOPE is, without doubt, the deepest mystery in the world to me because I don’t know where it comes from!

It would be easy to say God, the universe, angels, or something along those lines gives it to us. But I have a feeling it’s more complicated than that because it seems to be imbued in human DNA. In fact, I think it’s one of those things that sets us apart from other life forms on earth. That, and that we seem unable to be easily rid of it!

There are so many things about which I wish I could stop being HOPEFUL. In a lot of ways I almost feel like it would make my life a lot easier to encounter the same situations over and over again and NOT HOPE maybe THIS time things will be different.

emily-dickinsonAnd yet there it is! I keep trying, keep plugging along holding onto that slender thread of optimism in the HOPE that something sometime will actually change for the better. I guess it goes against my nature to give up! (Of course I suppose it could also mean I’m just bloomin’ bull-headed!)

Be that as it may, I have always loved the Emily Dickinson poem, “Hope” is the thing with feathers.” I keep a copy of it on my desk. She didn’t know where HOPE came from either, but she saw it everywhere, and she saw it as something wonderful. She wrote:



——————————“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
——————————That perches in the soul –
——————————And sings the tune without the words –
——————————And never stops – at all –

——————————And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
——————————And sore must be the storm –
——————————That could abash the little Bird
——————————That kept so many warm –

——————————I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
——————————And on the strangest Sea –
——————————Yet – never – in Extremity,
——————————It asked a crumb – of me.

So even though I don’t know where it comes from either, and despite the fact that sometimes HOPE actually hurts like hell, I reckon it’s something I’d rather have than not because I always hold on to the HOPE that this world can be a better place.. 🙂



Picture Sources:
Stocking — Harula
mily Dickinson — American Poems
Hope — Sharon’s Love of Books
Hope Bird — New City Arts