Hope Heals
In the Park where we walk of a morning, seven trees had burnt down to their roots. I grieved for them, feeling that there wouldn’t be a resurrection for these deaths.
But…
Out of the seven trees that had got completely charred because of an accidental fire, two had a miraculous rebirth six months ago. Now three more of the gulmohar trees have revived. And this was even more than a miracle. Up until four weeks ago, three of the bare skeletons had stretched out their bare limbs in mute supplication to the heavens.
Today, they are covered in foliage, and efflorescent. Since every one of the leaves is a new one, they are all a gentle velvety parrot green. And right in the middle of a bunch of upturned leaves, scarcely daring to believe in their own temerity, are the tiniest spots of fiery, blush red flowers. Every one of them is turned upwards. Every one of them is a prayer of gratitude. Every one of them is a smile of triumph of life over death.
Everyone of them is a resurrection.
A revival.
A rebirth.
A song of joy.
A paean of praise.
There are so many miracles happening all around us. How many of them do we actually see, observe, register?
And when so many miracles occur all around us, what reason is there to lose hope, be negative, be pessimistic, about “bad” academic results, about relationships gone sour, about losing a job, about breaches of trust?
We just have to look around us to see how inexorable joy, hope and love can be.
Hope heals.
