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A Parable of Hope

Hope is a rare friend for some to find. But she's there.

By Debra CrissPublished 3 years ago 3 min read

The child had heard much about a new friend that she would meet someday soon.

There was no way to know when this friend would arrive, only that the child could expect it sometime soon. Though she had not yet met this new friend, the child had old friends, and they kept her company.

Day after day the child looked out the window, to see if her new friend was on their way. When finally the day came for her to meet her new friend, she thought she may be dreaming. She’d begun to believe this new friend decided they didn’t really want to be friends after all. But they’d finally made it, and this new friend was so beautiful.

This new friend’s name was HOPE.

HOPE came into the child’s life softly at first, almost imperceptible. Just a glimmer of light floating nearby at all times. It would grow most days, but occasionally be a little dimmer than the day before. Always the light would come back on, brighter than before. Until one day HOPE dimmed too much; HOPE was gone. The child looked and looked, but one of her old friends – FEAR – had chased HOPE away. FEAR had been jealous of HOPE, and decided HOPE had to go.

The child did not fight for HOPE.

The child had not known how reliant she’d become on the light of HOPE. Without HOPE, all rooms were cast in darkness. “Was this how dark it had been before? I hadn’t known!” Until she’d seen HOPE’s light, she did not know just how dim her home had been. Eventually the child’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of her surroundings, and she forgot again just how deep the darkness was.

One day HOPE returned. HOPE was so bright now that the child had to shield her eyes to avoid being blinded. But eventually her eyes adjusted to the brightness of her surroundings, and the child forgot about just how bright HOPE really was. SHAME – another old friend of the child – did not like how bright this light was. SHAME did not like to be seen, and decided they needed to get rid of HOPE, just as FEAR had done all that time ago. And again, the child did not fight for HOPE, because FEAR & SHAME held her back.

And so this continued, HOPE would come, brighten the darkness, but ultimately be chased off by each of the rest of the child’s old friends: GUILT, ANGER, DESPAIR.

Each time, FEAR and SHAME held the child back from fighting for HOPE.

One day the child began preparing for HOPE’s next return. She began learning how to fight against FEAR and SHAME. She learned their weaknesses, but also what made them stronger. The child was determined to fight for HOPE this time. HOPE deserved that much after coming back for the child time after time.

But when HOPE arrived again, their brightness again struck the child. She never seemed to shield her eyes in tim, and was taken away by the light every time. This blinding gave FEAR and SHAME just enough time to stand between HOPE and the child.

“HOPE must go and must never return. HOPE brings too much light and blinds you. Then when they leave it takes your eyes longer and longer to adjust to the darkness. HOPE is causing too much suffering, and that suffering is worse every time.”

“But if HOPE stays, my eyes will never have to adjust to the darkness again”, says the child.

SHAME then cries out, “But we can only live in the darkness! We cannot properly live where HOPE lives! We will only have the safety of the small shadows! We will only see you when HOPE is tired and dim, and the shadows grow longer.”

The child looks at all of her old friends – FEAR, SHAME, GUILT, ANGER & DESPAIR – and says:

“Thank you, my old friends. Thank you for seeing me this far, thank you for always standing by. Thank you for being here for me all these years, every time HOPE was lost. But we cannot continue the same way we always have. Even though HOPE is dim sometimes, we will not cast them away and wait for them to return.

HOPE will have a home here now.”

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About the Creator

Debra Criss

Writing to find the humanity in myself, and all of us.

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    Debra CrissWritten by Debra Criss

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