What does hope look like?
Emily Dickinson wrote that it is “a thing with feathers”; a bird that never stops singing, in any weather. Fragile on one hand, and miraculously resilient against the forces of nature on the other.
So, maybe this is what hope looks like?
Or maybe, it is like the phoenix, burning to ashes every time and rising from it again, strong and with a huge wingspan.
Yes, maybe this is what hope looks like.
Or maybe not; maybe it is quietly reborn every time our human vanquishes despair. When it is determined not to cooperate with the evil that engulfs us and threatens to crush our commitment to resistance.
Yes, maybe this is what hope looks like. Hope is a stubborn nudge who doesn’t care what anyone says. It doesn’t want to sell you anything, and as Emily Dickinson wrote, it doesn’t ask for anything in return.
Or perhaps it does?
Maybe she wants us to hold on to her even when it gets so cold and bleak.
Hope is stubborn and doesn’t like to be confused with optimism or with ignoring facts. She’s very strict about this, Hope. She’s stubborn and has a very long neck, far beyond her size, because she must keep looking ahead and up all the time, even when her fragile feet are stuck deep in the mud.
She’s a nag who tugs at the lapel of your clothes and reminds you that it’s not a good idea to wallow in self-pity or close your eyes.
Oh, and she’s compassionate, Hope. She understands when we’ve grown tired of holding on to her and we dropped the ball, even for a while. She understands our weaknesses and difficulties, and she has a lot of patience.
Yes, I think this what hope looks like: stubborn, compassionate, nagging, fragile, and strong.
Hamutal Gouri 