Bethany has been doing a school project with this classic poem by Emily Dickinson.
I thought about it this morning when I saw this sweet bluebird at the zoo.
"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.
I heard--and saw--plenty of hope in the chillest land this morning.
Photographers have to be some of the most hope-filled people around.
If you're carrying a camera around, it probably means you're expecting good things to happen!
Today I saw that my driveway was a skating rink, which means a nasty drive to school,
but the zoo's not far away. This is what it looks like when I get "called in to work".
As I saw these little creatures that God made out in the cold,
I thought about how tenacious hope is.
I thought, too, about the end of the poem that says
"it never asked a crumb of me".
As Bethany observed, hope is a gift.
A gift that, by the grace of God,
is offered to all.
My venturing out was rewarded, of course.
The worst of conditions from a human perspective
are glorious from other perspectives.