Hope.

It’s funny how hope works.  It always seems to arise in the least likely times.

Hope comes when I glance at my email, and see that someone has replied to me, someone I recognize.  I don’t have time to read the entire message; I’m dashing out the door, late to work or a meeting.  But I know that there’s a little message, a sign of caring, waiting for me when I return.  The promise of a wonderful message gives me hope.

Hope comes when my eyes are following a pretty girl who’s walked into the room, and she looks back at me with a smile.  Sometimes, that smile is a playful grin, as if she can read my thoughts and is enticing me on.  Sometimes, it’s a shy acknowledgement of my interest, yet still mixed with surprise that someone finds her beautiful.  Sometimes it’s a beaming flash of teeth, simple joy from experiencing the world.  But that smile says that there is hope.

Hope comes from a single, lingering kiss good night.  That kiss will be followed by a parting, by a pulling away.  That magical night of late night talking, kissing, coupling?  That won’t happen tonight.  But that last kiss says that it could come, that it isn’t off the table, that it might be just around the corner.  That kiss says that there is the potential for more, that this relationship is worth continuing, has a deeper, innate value.  That kiss, hauntingly bittersweet, gives me hope.

Hope can appear at the brightest of times or the darkest of times.  Hope can strike while on vacation, loving every minute of life and already riding high and happy.  But hope can also help salvage a horrible day, when the rain falls on a silenced alarm clock, on lost keys, on angry retorts and foul moods.  Hope is unpredictable, but always welcomed and wonderful.

No one can seek out hope.  Instead, we must wait for hope to find us.

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2 thoughts on “Hope.

  1. In my country there is proverb, which tells, that hope is the mother of fools. But I don't know if it is truth. People here also tell, that hope dies on the end. Greetings from Poland in Central Europe 🙂

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  2. Hope dies at the end . . . that could actually be really poetic! When I first read it, I interpreted it as tragic, but now I see that it could also be uplifting, if hope dies when it is realized or fulfilled. Thanks for reading, all the way from Poland!

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