Hope is a funny thing.
Just when you are about to give up completely, a small, unexpected moment sneaks up, making you think twice about filling your pockets with stone and walking into the river.
My okra has appeared. It has blossomed and given fruit. How could I have ever lost hope in okra?
This past week I was at camp. It was one of those moments when the stars lined up to place a group of people in the same place at the same time far removed from everyone else, creating a space in time that can only be appreciated by those who were there.
I am so grateful that I was there. Just before Saturday a week ago, I was out of luck, love and money and damn near out of hope. My week at camp uncovered an unexpected wellspring of love and hope.
Even though I am heartsick and Ophie may never come home, I know that I am capable of giving myself to a bunch of amazing kids and helping them discover the beauty and music within themselves, each other and the world.
And hey, I've got okra in my garden afterall. There may still be hope for those eggplants...