Skip to main content

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 to be 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 and grow as 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 grew to recognise me. Sowly drifting off to sleep while being held. Learning to  explore the world around her with much curiosity: Learning to call us and sound simple words; recognising and remembering the names of her peers. Chasing after her friends as fast as her little legs could run and carry her. Leaning on my back while flipping through her small book. Setting off on her own mischief and announcing it with "tah nah." 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.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The season of Obedience

And the campus got decked in merry colours and glowing lights; Yes! Christmas is here. One question that is generally included in most of the services this season is "What does Christmas mean to you?" I have had my own share of narrating what Christmas means to me and how that meaning has actually changed or grown over the years as I too grew older. For those of us who are now older, we might be a tad tired of the question but for the sake of those who are still getting to understand Christmas better each year, it is a question worth asking.   Incidentally, the other day my wife and I were having a small conversation on the same and one of the word that came up was "obedience." Yes, Christmas is termed as the season of peace, of hope, of love, of goodwill and among the many other themes, I think obedience is also one to think of. So where do we see obedience in the Christmas story? Think of Mary who in obedience submitted herself to the message of God, think of Jose...
2 comments
Read more

The Boy on the Bus

He was just a boy on the bus, calling out to people to get on board. His eyes counted the empty seats and his voice called out for people to fill them up. I watched as he checked to see all the seats were taken and then he called out to the driver to start the bus. The trip to the town began and he came around collecting the fares - little hands gripping the bills and the coins inspecting the bills carefully and returning changes. He did it with ease, after all he was used to it. I couldn't but help think about this little boy as I watched him from my seat. Perhaps another of his age would have been delighted to go on such a ride. Another would have loved the sights of the "world" passing by but this boy kept his eyes on his little hands with the fares and the change. What might have been a delight to another was to him a routine. He will step down not because he has reached his destination but a stop to let people down and take in others. The youngest on board, he w...
Post a Comment
Read more