Hope

What does hope look like? In a conference, we were each given play clay and asked to shape an object that symbolized hope for us as individuals. Everyone set to work with much excitement. Most of us a little unsure about the task, looking around at what the early starters were making, some small discussions and giggling as we each set to decide on an object to shape. Eventually, we all finished and with much delight looked at what each of us crafted. 

Hope may appear different from person to person but having hope is a shared phenomenon. Losing hope is also a sad reality, but that is for another time. Our symbols of hope may also change as we grow and gain richer and deeper experience in life. One of the poems that I now resonate with a little more is William Butler Yeats' A Prayer For My Daughter. I look at this as a prayer of hope that Yeats expresses for his daughter as a storm, symbolising a chaotic world she would grow up in, rages on. Like Yeats, I have the joy of being a father. Like Yeats, I am fearful of the times that my daughter will grow up in. Like Yeats I have my own prayer and hope that she will grow up in time as a decent, modest, and proper lady.

But the hope I bear is not only what I envision for my daughter, what I hope one day she will become. In a more personal way, she is my symbol of hope for me. My daughter instills hope in me in her own little ways—hope that I will continue to be a good man. 

So what grows hope in me in this journey of fatherhood? It all began with seeing her on the scan and the joy of the news. On her arrival, holding her in my arms in gratitude and joy.  Watching her smile as she recognised me. Slowly drifting off to sleep while holding her. Learning to  explore the world around her with much curiosity. Learning to call out to us and sound simple words. Recognising and remembering the names of her peers. Chasing after her friends as fast as her little legs can run and carry her. Leaning on my back while flipping through her small book. Setting off on her own mischief and announcing it with "tan-tah." Learning to do small chores and copying the actions of those around her. Everything that a two year old can be expected to do, and every little surprise such a little one brings along the way grows hope in me—hope that I will continue to better myself for her. I know the time in my hands are fleeting but with what I have, I work to be the best I can be.