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Things That Make Me Hopeful
A bell, an apartment, moments on a train
I live in Strathcona, the east side of Vancouver, a place of homes and homeless and strange hope.
This photo is of my side street, where I walk to the nearby library. More than once, with an armload of books to return, someone has stopped their own errand or sweeping to ask me about the books.
“Anything I should read?” has been the question. And we stand for twenty minutes sharing titles and thoughts. Over many years, I’ve lived in a large number of neighbourhoods in this city, and this is the only one in which this has happened.
The bell
The lit up piece hanging in the tree is a bell. When I give the rope a gentle tug, it emits a wonderful low-toned dong. It resonates through me. It makes me pause for a long moment before I move along. And for some time after, the sound, the pause, stays with me.
I moved here almost eight years ago and was delighted — that first holiday season — to see this bit of magic wrapped in lights to share with all.
Several years ago, in the summer months, the house had a large For Sale sign placed in front of it, and my first thought was of the bell, and my second thought was one of loss.