The very definition of an intangible is that there is nothing there to see. How do you describe something that is not there?
How do you grasp a vapor, a promise, a dream?
How do you curve a letter around a wisp of a thought? A sparkle of a grin?
Hope truly is defined by what it isn’t.
It isn’t a stone or stair but you can climb up on it to reach unsearchable places.
It isn’t wool and leather to guard you from cold but you can weave it about to guard your heart.
It isn’t breathless joy waiting around the corner but it will dance with your expectations in delight.
Hope is a choice we make when our dreams come outside of our sleep filled eyes and wake us with insistence.
“Believe!” it says.
The possibilities of hope can bubble inside of us like uncorked champagne.
And hope can burst and fizzle to nothing if not preserved and created anew.
Often those who know defeat the least will hope the best.
Children infinitely hope that distant bells mean ice cream trucks and bright colored packages hold answered requests.
But not all children can keep hope alive. Those whose eyes have aged as they witness too much pain and defeat sometimes just can not.
There is no greater task than to resuscitate that hope and give vigor to a little one as she hopes for more.
As she hopes for enough strength to get up a from a sick bed.
As he hopes for a school uniform and a desk to sit at.
As she dreams of giving back to a grandmother who has given more than she has to give.
As he longs for a night of sleep without terror of the unknown and the sorrow of the morning.
As they dare to look for a future where children will be healthy and dream of success beyond the dirt roads and into the stars.