When only a few letters are added, the word, ‘hope,’ has diametrically different meanings… ‘hope(fulness),’ and ‘hope(lessness).’
Oftentimes, human nature determines which version of the word might apply, under various circumstances.
For instance, people walking by a freshly-planted garden, along the front of a small shop, where I’d parked my car the other day, couldn’t miss seeing several handwritten signs, in the garden, asking passersby to “give plants a chance,” by staying “off them.”
Sniffing something of interest, a passerby’s two dogs were about to ignore the signs, but the passerby pulled her dogs back from the garden, so the new plants would be left alone. At least, for the moment, whoever planted the plants, and was asking folks to let them be, would be experiencing hopefulness, I was thinking.
There’s been some crime in the old, but changing, community, on the San Francisco Peninsula, some of it nasty, and possibly social media-induced, with people wreaking havoc on other people, on a dare, apparently. Folks strolling about town, and working in shops, have been concerned… and fearful, and, perhaps, even experiencing feelings of hopelessness.
Much of the news, lately, has been about crime, locally, and nationwide, and elsewhere… disturbing, dismaying news, you can bet is causing folks, all over, to be experiencing feelings of hopelessness, as well.
But as I was seeing more people out and about, some rushing… some strolling… along the sidewalk, I was getting increasingly curious about their human nature, and it was refreshing, seeing people respecting those handwritten words on those little signs, in a small garden, at the front of a shop.
Later on, a lady — maybe a business owner? — was tending to a little garden, in front of another shop, up the street, a bit, from the small garden with the signs. And then, I was seeing her gardening, elsewhere, down the line of shops, along the sidewalk.
It seemed, having seen her, on other occasions, when my wife and I were in the area, that the lady was gardening quite a lot.
As my wife was on her way back to our car, after running some errands, she stopped to chat with the lady, who, as it turns out, resides in an apartment above one of the shops. Her knowledge of plants is extraordinary, my wife mentioned, as we were heading home.
And when my wife was admiring a particular plant, the lady gave her a cutting we could plant, and explained how we could get it to thrive in our garden, where plants have been known to struggle at times. My wife often jokes about her faulty green thumb.
Hopefulness was what my wife was feeling, as she was placing the cutting from the plant in a container of water, figuring that hydrating it, initially, would get a few roots to begin developing, while she was considering where the cutting might take root in our garden.
There even was a hopefulness bonus, that day, when my wife recounted hearing about a small business owner, a few doors down from the plant lady’s apartment, providing charitable contributions to orphanages, food banks, and for other needs, when visiting relatives in Vietnam.
We’ve known this gentleman for a number of years, but had no idea about all the good he’s been doing.