HOPE

One morning in mid-February I looked out my front window and saw this. It was a beautiful sight for my eyes, but not so much for my winter weary heart. Of course we always get a snow around Valentine's Day, but this has been an unusually cold and snowy winter for East Tennessee. Sometimes it seems that it will last forever.

But a couple of days later, when the snow melted, I saw this.

Last fall before the snow came, I planted some daffodil bulbs. I forgot all about them through the long cold winter. And then these little green sprouts popped up just when I needed them. Spring is still weeks away. There will probably be more cold gray days. But now I remember that Spring WILL come. I have hope.

"Hope" is the thing with feathers

"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. 

Emily Dickinson