90 results for 'hope'
...and thought, they can appear quite different, and yet, not so very different at all. But there is one way in which their differences manifest that I find most striking: their outlook on the future.
These respective outlooks can be boiled down to several word oppositions” yes v. no, hope v. fear, future v. past. And we see these oppositions in full relief during this current Roman Coliseum brawl called the 2012 elections. Most pointedly from the Republican camp, the rhetoric is almost predictable: we must return to, they seek to destroy, they want to force you, we need to return ... (more)
Tyrant hands of time taunt me.
Apocalyptical warnings make e shudder
In the bottomless pit of dreary dark uncertainties
I am falling and yelling to escape
From the ashes, I wish to rise
Hands offering to lift me up
Steering restlessness into the calm corollary
I know now, that I have the supporting threads
I have with me now the hands, which hold me
Yes, the time which took away, has now given me back
I have with me the gains of my lost time
I know now, that I have the reason to smile
I have with me the faith... (more)
...Love is not the price; which, I asked for. All that has happened, has happened and I know, I will never get back her, yet I wish to wander around my memories. There are many, who do care passionately about love. I find that love somewhere crying over betrayals, somewhere it is hanging in hope, somewhere it is germinating in the poems and song, somewhere it is nurturing and blooming, somewhere it is questioning and somewhere it is as a dreaming. Whatever it is… love is that first glance and rest thereafter is history. And that we call – ‘A LOVE STORY’.
- Often when two... (more)
...new ones to name a few. I have no complaints at all of what transpired in 2011 for me. It was another phase of my life to be remembered and cherished, and one that forced me to learn some important lessons. Now 2012, I believe, will be even better.
The happiness, smacks on the lips, and hope-filled feelings we experience when the clock strikes midnight on 12-31 ought to happen everyday. Why not? After all, every moment we live on God’s earth should be looked upon as a gift. He wants us making the most of each one with great enthusiasm, a sense of expectancy, openness toward new... (more)
The story continues...
During a visit to Wender’s family, the year after his tragic death, I discovered there was a new, but unexpected member in the family; a beautiful little girl. Not recalling Wender’s mother being pregnant on my earlier visits that year I really wondered where this sweet little angel had come from.
On asking about her, Wender’s mother simply replied: “Look a little closer and tell me what immediately comes to mind...”
My answer was the inevitable question: “Wender...?”
....and Wender it was!
That young rascal that we all missed so much... (more)
Wender belonged to the first group of kids rescued from the streets by me between 1993 and 1995. He was 13 years old at the time.
His story was an incredible one, although not uncommon in a country hosting hundreds of thousands of abandoned and neglected children on the streets of its major cities; himself being lost to the streets after having run away from home at the age of nine together with a young boy from his neighborhood, who already had strong ties with the streets at the time.
Once engulfed by the other kids on the streets Wender was soon indulging in all that is far... (more)
... over you."
(She walks behind me, wrapping me in her arms and laying her head against my shoulder, the warmth from her body, comforting.)
"Come, let's contend again. I'm smiling at you, not from a drunken stupor, a drug induced high, or a crazed insanity, but from a strength born of hope. Come now, 3, come and try me again."
(I find myself smiling contentedly at my lover. Her soft smile that shows me I make her happy, but not nearly as happy as she has made me.)
"Come loneliness, will you wrestle with me now in this early morning? Come pain, can we contend with... (more)
Roney and Claudiney’s story represents not only their tragic lives, but the lives of so many underprivileged children in both the world’s poorest and wealthiest countries, abandoned by our neglect and our insatiable appetite for self gain. Greed has no class or colour.
Two beloved brothers, united by their involuntary dependency to the streets, forced upon them in childhood by the insecurities of a malfunctioning home and parents.
Roney, the youngest and a born leader, was to meet his match in the face of Brazil’s brutal and almost untouchable street kid killers. I told that story... (more)
During the delicate phase of motivating children to leave the streets for good, their worries become our worries. Will they survive the time they will need to reach this important turning point in their lives? Each individual child hides an anonymous history, with debts that some day will need to be paid. For a child trying to survive the mean streets of the big cities in Brazil, he would be much safer riding a wild bull at rodeo. Their involvement with the underworld and its multiple criminal activities guarantees that sooner or later these kids will end up spending a good part of their childhood... (more)
I turned the music on today.
I let the pain work its way out and through
my heart to my eyes,
welling up with watery release
I turned the music on today.
I let the tears come rolling on in and down
my face to my lips,
tasting my salty sorrow.
I turned the music on today.
I let myself go and felt all of it
rolling around and across
my life in this room.
I turned the music on today...
First written in: opinionsofeye.com(more)