Right at my doorstep was a large package.Â Inside were two hand-made quotes sent by my friend in Canada.Â She had heard about the Walk for Hope and had decided that she wanted to be a part of it by helping making some quotes.Â When I opened the package, in addition to the two quotes, a card with a hand-written letter fell out.Â This is what the letter said:
Tonight as I was walking home from the gym, I passed by St. Michael’s Cathedral.Â It was built in 1849 and spans a city block on all 4 sides.Â I looked at the church, first passing by the rectory.Â How many priests must have walked through that door, I thought.Â Outside were parked two modern day cars – one grey, and one red – in contrast to the old brick and mortar that surrounded them.Â I kept walking and saw a man inside with the glare of a computer screen lighting his face.Â Oh my! How times have changed, I thought.Â I kept on, admiring the precision with which somebody before me laid each brick to make up these magnificent walls, this statuesque structure.Â I turned the corner and noticed the stained glass windows.Â How did they know how to set those beautiful creations so they would last over 150 years later… and beyond?Â I marvelled at the steeple that shot straight up into the sky, with authority, with no apologies for being so grand, so magnificent.Â I noticed the bare vines that creeped up alongside the corners of the church, leading my eye up to the gargoyles which were subtle, yet distinct part of the grand design.Â I chuckled thinking that even a church needed to ward off evil, even in 1849.
This beautiful walk home felt like a silent meditation.Â I noticed nothing and noone else on the street.Â After the church, another structure.Â This one, brand new, made up of concrete, glass, metal.Â It, too, loomed.Â Such contrast.Â Such beauty.
On Saturday, I awoke and went to the craft store to buy supplies for the quotes I had promised to contribute to this year’s Walk for Hope.Â I was happy and excited.Â I came home with a big bag of stuff and immediately spread everything out onto my bed.Â Instantly, I opened the package of stencils, and began punching them out.Â As my mind stilled, and I methodically punched them out, I had a feeling of great love.Â What if, I thought, we all – people all around the world – took a few minutes to pause, to perform a task, all in the name of hope?Â What if, right at that moment, people in Afghanistan, Palestine, Israel, Sudan, Rwanda, Germany, Poland, New York, all just took a minute to put their grievances down, and pick up a pencil crayon to color a sign of hope?Â What if I wasn’t the only one, right at that moment, creating something for one universal cause?Â What if we all just silenced ourselves to make something with our hands, to create, instead of destroy, to build, instead of destruct, to feel joy, instead of pain, and to smile, instead of to cry?Â What if, I thought.Â What if?
Lately I have been reading much about the shameful human behaviours in war ravaged countries.Â Two more Canadian soldiers died this past weekend in a roadside bomb in Afghanistan.Â One was 36 – my age – and one only 21.Â Where’s the hope in that?
The answer is, that the hope is in the Walk for Hope.Â In the signs.Â In the love going into the creations.Â In the people who will walk on Oct 17th.Â Their familes, their loved ones, their networks.Â Â […]
September 10, 2009