Hope & Love

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;	5
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;	10
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

-Emily Dickinson

Hope is what has gotten me through this year so far. Hope that things will get better, hope that everything will be alright, hope that I can get through this. Hope remained as my security blanket while the world around me was falling apart. And things have worked out... I kept hope and hope delivered. Is that how it goes? Hope, luck, God... I'm not really sure what. I used to know, it was nice when I was certain. That doesn't explain why bad things happen to people. I wish I knew for sure. For now, I'll keep hoping.

By the way, the other students and I met with the chaplain at the agency I am doing placement at, and she had us tell her a bit about ourselves, and we did. Afterwards, she was kind of summing up things and said something about each of us. One student felt the need to slow life down, the other wanted power, and for me she stated that I was longing for love. At first, in my head, I was all up in arms. Longing for love? What does she know? I am not! But, then, I admitted to myself that she was actually right. It's weird how some people can just read you. Am I that transparent?