Hope

Hope. It is an incredibly precious thing. It cannot be bought, cannot always be justified, yet sometimes it just drifts into your life.
Like walking along a cobbled street in the cold and wet of a Winter evening, and realising that the familiar darkness is a touch lighter; that a new season must indeed be waiting to emerge, just waiting. Or that feeling of relief when tears come, and all that has frustrated and held you captive just gives in and falls down your face, and you realise you can be yourself, and who you are is truly beautiful.
Hope. This year was marked with hope because this year was also a year of new beginnings. And new beginnings have a funny way of compelling hope to come out of hibernation.
The push and pull of the child in her womb made her constantly aware of what was soon to take place. This child was already fully alive, fully existing, yet not yet fully known. The stretching of a head against her belly button, of the feet kicking sharply in the ribs, reminded her of the new beginning that had already started, but that was also waiting to be. The physical feelings were familiar, yet this little life was completely and wonderfully unique. As she sat there folding the new clothes, the thoughts of a precious baby stirred up hope deep within her. The longing of holding the little one, warm and close, stoked a desire for those intimate feelings of motherhood that had now been awakened and slowly embraced by the experience of their first child.
And beyond this new beginning was the knowledge that this year had many other changes ahead - change that was lining up like buses, now all arriving at once. A new country, a move, leaving her family, a complete change of direction for the four of them. The reality dawned upon her that a new beginning sometimes arrives unannounced like an invitation through your letterbox; as an idea is suggested and springs into place, and then can take much time and planning before it comes into being. A little like the life inside of her. The relative quickness of conception, which is followed by the slow and unseen growth and development, as the child is nourished and prepared, ready for the delivery into this often harsh new world.
All the change ahead required organisation, working through lists, making plans. Answering questions, avoiding some. "How do you feel? What will you do? Your parents must be devastated! I am so pleased for you". She paused before answering questions, guarding her heart against some, savouring the life and encouragement from others. She slowly took in each new feeling that an overwhelming question provoked. Processing, pondering, discarding and embracing.
And yet there were times, when the sun would give the rain a break, and a slice of light would appear upon the small wall in their living room; that she would be reminded. Hope. The sun caught the dust in its rays, and together they danced to their own happy tune. These many new invitations were filled and surrounded with a beautiful and delicate veil of hope. And that is what compelled her, spurred her on. That push and pull of following convictions. Of making decisions one felt at peace with; that made her heart take a little leap of joy.
This new year was indeed filled with new beginnings, new stories that were about to be written, and filled with hope.