When I was a kid
my mom loved to read aloud
the Greek myths.
Her favorite was the one about how
Zeus punished humans
for having accepted the gift of
fire from Prometheus
by giving Pandora (a most beautiful
woman)
a box he told her not to open (but
knew she would).
All the miseries of the world
were unleashed from that box as
Pandora opened it...
BUT,
at the bottom of the box, was
hope!
My mom used to say, "there is
always hope".
There is a great short telling of the
myth here:
http://www.greekboston.com/culture/mythology/pandoras-boxOf course,
when looking for another poem to memorize
during radiation,
I was drawn to Emily Dickinson's beautifully crafted words.
Hope Is the Thing With Feathers
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.
Of course,
when looking for another quilt to make
(living joyfully)
I was drawn to a big jar of
HOPE!
Of course,
when looking for another quilt to make
(living joyfully)
I was drawn to a big jar of
HOPE!
