Day 38: Hope

We decorated the tree tonight. I let Rich pick out the tree this year and of course it's too tall to strand straight. We saw off the top and wedge it up against the ceiling, the branches waving in funny directions and filling up our tiny living room. I love it. It's wild and prickly and has bald spots in embarassing places, but we chose it, so it is ours. And it is ours, so I love it.

Every year we choose an ornament that represents something about our year. The first year is a bell, to signify a wedding. Next was the year we (and by we I mean Rich) became insanely addicted to Starbucks Lattes. We have a little ceramic double tall nonfat hazelnut latte from 2007. Last year I convinced Rich to skip the Christmas Tree (our apartment was basically one room) and we decorated our ficus tree instead and choose an ornamental Christmas tree to commemorate his great sacrifice and the one year that I am allowed the use the "no-tree-this-year" card. It's never easy to find one ornamental piece of metal and plastic to represent a year's worth of living. This year our ornament is simple. A small bit of tarnished metal, it spells out the word hope with a toss of glitter across the lettering. This is our year of hope. You know, I once heard someone say that hope is the cruelest of all emotions, and I've never forgotten that. Hope is all in the waiting, it promises nothing in return and requires everything to continue on. When you strip it down, hope is little more than a wish that we cannot forget for the intensity of our desire. Hope is not the promise of a new and better day, no. Hope is the desire for something that seems it will never be. But without hope, we are left with the bleakness of reality. With no possiblity for change. This year we are embodied with hope. Hope for a child. Hope for a deeper love to grow between us and around us and through us.

It's Christmastime. And I wonder what your ornament might be. I wonder what will you hang on your tree, what will you hold in your hands and say this is what I am, this is what I have this year. For us, it is hope.