The theft of hope.

What do you do when someone steals your very last hope?  Or your dreams?  I come around to this question every so often.  I watch it.  Hope, dying in someone’s eyes.  Dreams, stolen away.  It can be as simple as telling a child that they are a horrible writer, or will never be able to… (fill in the blank)  But it is also true for adults and we do it to eachother.

Sometimes I stand outside of the interaction, watching it go.  Wondering if the person who just did the stealing really understands the impact of their actions.  Or, thinking, that most likely they are acting out their own pain and fears.

But the question that haunts me, as this comes up again and again, and I saw it this last week.  What does one do when everything has been taken from them.  The people they cherish, the work they love, the home they’ve built.  Do they attempt to walk away and rebuilt somewhere else?  Do they wither away?  Do they turn into an empty husk?

I see and meet more empty husks these days.  I begin to feel as if I am surrounded by people with no hope and that sucks the hope out of me.  I am left with nothing as those around me have no hope, no spark, and if I get just a little, it is stolen away before I can fan it into flames of a fire that will warm my heart.


~ by mud on November 9, 2007.

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