"Hope" is the thing with feathers
by Emily Dickinson
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.
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.
I read this bit of verse to my sweet seventh graders today. I think they got it. They got the metaphor...that hope is like a bird. I told them a bit about Miss Dickinson and how she was a bit of a recluse, never having traveled very far away from her home in Amherst, Massachusetts. They got that the "chillest land" and the "strangest sea" must have been hard, unsettled times in Miss Dickinson's life. They got that HOPE requires nothing of us...it only gives.
When I got home this evening, this bright bit of a tulip was waiting for me, having just popped its head out from under last fall's leaves. Miss Dickinson's verse came unbidden into my head and heart at the mere sight of this splash of color in the midst of the as of yet untended bed. What a treasure!
Yesterday was dark and stormy. Today the sun is shining brightly and this tulip reminds me that there are more and more sunny days coming...soon. The phlox nestled in around the tulip's roots are trying their best to reassure me of the same, but they have not quite the bravery of this daring young sprout. This is Ohio...they could all well be covered in something cold and white come tomorrow...but I do not think they will be.
Today I will hope.
Today I love HOPE.
"HOPE requires nothing of us...it only gives." This past week has been full of unfortunate events. In all the tragedy these beautiful stories pop up much like your tulip amid the phlox. Thanks for sharing your story of hope. We can all use a bit of it in our days.
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