She hadn’t felt it for a long time but she felt something stir again and she thought “So this is what hope looks like.” This phrase leaped from the pages of ; “Sing in the Morning, Cry in the night” by Barbara Taylor J.
As I read about hope, it painfully pulled at my heart strings. As I closed my eyes reflecting back to times long past and a story beautifully told. I came across that phrase and I knew I had been where the author was.
Hope it came to me, had a face. It is real and most times Hope is a person. Hope is warm, it is like a hot water bottle on a really cold night. Hope is rich, it feels like silk against your skin; luxurious, soft and so incredibly wonderful. Hope is encouraging. It is the look in a loved one’s eye as they encourage you to take the step because they know you can.
If hope was a color, it would be a color that carries the warmth of red, the sunny brightness of yellow with a shimmering sliver of blue running through it and have the freshness of green leaves in spring. If hope had a scent, it would be as refreshing as the smell of the first raindrops hitting the parched, dusty ground after a long spell of drought.
I know just how she felt as the hope pushed through the dark clouds of grief, pain, depression and despair. I know just how she felt after so long playing with guilt as a companion and wondering if her best would ever be good enough. One day, she saw through it all to the promise of a future with laughter, joy and the promise of a new beginning. I feel that stirring today. Something intangible but real. Something that puts the beginning of a spring in my step and a smile on my lips. Something that makes my heart beat just a little bit faster and my breath come a bit short.
I am glad I know who hope feels like.