Hope

There it is - hope.

It might not look like much to you but it does to me. There is a story behind my 3 inch plant. Care to pour yourself a cup or coffee and sit with me while I explain?

Once upon a time, I was without hope. Oh, I had hope long ago but it went away as quickly as it came. Kinda sorta banished from the kingdom where I lived. Only thing was, I didn't live in the kingdom as a princess but as a captive, held prisoner in a dark castle.

I didn't have visitors. No prince climbed my long hair to rescue me. Prayers seemed to go unanswered and frankly I became afraid to pray, believing the thick walls of the dungeon would keep them from filtering up to heaven.

Silence is not always golden or cherished. Silence can keep a person thirsty as they feel their life going dry.

And so it was....as the years rolled by - one seeming very much like the last - I became more thirsty. Just as the last drop of hope was about to spill out, I found a well to quench my thirst for hope.

At first, I was skeptical. I kept my eyes closes, my hands clinched tight and made sure I kept my distance. Hope never gave up on me. It stayed beside me during the storms of fall season, it held me when lightening crashed across the sky and the thunder rolled., It kept close to me, as a warm blanket to snuggle in on the coldest winter night.

Then one day I found the companionship of hope was what kept me moving forward and I began to believe it was real and that if I unclenched my fists and opened my eyes, I would be able to embrace the life that I had, until then, only hoped for.

Just like the precious plant you see here. It is growing in a pot on my back porch. It was once upon a time a tiny seed. It tried to grow. I saw it sprout one spring morning. But, the world it saw must of frightened it for it gave up and fell back into the soil.

A few days ago, as I was resting on the porch, I saw it! I stood so tall and strong as if it were calling to me - giving me a message of some kind.

Perhaps - hope was the message, never give up hoping.

If that tiny seed that has weathered the Pacific Northwest storms and my ungreen thumb can survive, then surely, I can weather the storms in this life.

The End