Trust and Hope

Trust and Hope

The words just started to flow – so many words, full sentences, paragraphs of thoughts. She wrote them down as they flew out of her mind straight to the paper. Words that she would treasure – she didn’t even know the importance at the time but as the words came, she wrote. The words would come at odd times – sometimes in the morning, sometimes during her workday, and sometimes in the middle of the night. She would write them down whenever the thoughts flew in her small black book.

Overtime, the small black book became like an extension of herself. Always with her, holding her thoughts safe, being a keeper of her soul’s thoughts. Sometimes the thoughts spoke to her own life and sometimes they were meant for other people.

But she couldn’t stop the thoughts; much less, she didn’t want to. She just captured the words and hoped it would all make sense eventually. She didn’t know the little black book would become her cherished friend. Holding secrets, dreams, fears, intuitions, and words that seemed to flow from the air that she breathed. She didn’t know that the act of writing in that little black book would help her find herself, save her life, and eventually create her future.

The day was brisk, sunny, refreshing after long winter days and as she sat in the local coffee shop, alone in a booth, the words began to flow again. Out came her book and her pen started to fly across the pages. Words of wonder, positivity, hope.

“What if my life would change dramatically?”

“What if everything I knew changed in a positive direction?”

“What if everything I’ve learned about myself from writing in the book could change the direction of my life?”

The questions flew, the words flew, the pen flew.

In a nearby booth an older gentleman sat sipping his coffee and observing her from a distance. She seemed to be frantically writing like her life depended on it. Curiosity got the better of him and he decided to approach the woman writing in the small black book.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “You are writing so intently – it must be important.”

She began to explain to him, “ words just fly in my head and I’ve learned to just write them down, without judgement, whenever they come. I don’t always understand who the message is for or what the message means and yet other times I clearly knowing the message is meant to improve who I am. The thoughts come so quickly, I must write fast to contain them. This book is my only proof that the thoughts happened. ”

“Has anyone ever read what you’ve written?” the man asked.

“Not really,” she answered. “I’ve shared bits and pieces with people but most of all it stays between me and the book.”

“Could I read some?” the man asked.

She froze, should she share? What would she share? Why would she share with this man she had never met before?And yet something inside her said,“It’s okay.” But then, what should she let him read? Another thought blazed through her head – “Let fate decide.” Following her gut, she handed him her book – “You may open to any page you like.” Her heart pounded – what would he find? Would something be exposed that she wanted to keep private?

He carefully held the book. Her friend, her soul’s keeper – she watched as he flipped through the pages. He landed on a page entitled, “Hope”. It was a poem written in the same frantic manner as everything else in the book. The table grew silent. The man began to read—to her surprise, out loud. She had never heard her words other than in her head. They sounded different being read by someone else – somehow more confident and even more authentic.

Hope

It starts as a whisper,

almost too low to hear

As it speaks up, it begins to grow in your heart

Sometimes too much to bear.

Tentative to trust

Yet intuition encourages you – you must.

Trust and hope

Tie together

Friends that flock together

When days are dark

And we struggle the most

Dig deep and believe

In trust and hope.

It was a short poem, yet the man sat misty eyed. He fell silent, sitting in deep thought.Finally, he spoke: “Trust and Hope,” he started slowly, “Go together like Love and Cope.”

For a moment their souls spoke to each other in a silence like no other. Like he knew all the secrets of her small black book although he had read only one small page.

“Trust and Hope,” he said again. He lifted his head and their eyes met – he looked deep into her eyes and said, “I believe in you and I believe in what you are writing. You write what’s in your heart and others need to hear it.

“I have a gift for you but you must promise to accept it and use it.” He took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “I wrote this before I met you while I was still sitting over there watching you write. Your focus and outward passion impressed me. When you opened yourself up to let me read, you surprised me – then the page I chose spoke to my heart in a way that it hasn’t been touched in years. I want you to have this – create with it, be authentic.”

She picked up the small piece of paper and opened it. It was a check for $20,000 dollars. He asked her name and signed it on the check line. She was suddenly without words. Her eyes weld with tears of joy – she realized her dreams for her future could actually come true.

As she read the check she noticed the memo line. The memo line read, “Trust and Hope – I believe in you.”