If you’re looking for inspirational stories, all you have to do is look at pretty much any page in history. For millennia, human beings have found their inner strength and soldiered forward. It’s in our nature to find motivation and not give up. And thank goodness! Imagine if the first humans threw away their flints and rocks when the first strong wind or rain storm extinguished their fire?
Thank goodness we do not quit.
Instead, we light the fire again, and then find a way to keep it going.
We keep climbing in the face of adversity because we have the capacity for hope.
Hope has kept me going through many hard times. When my husband Garry had cancer, even though the prognosis was dire, the hope that we might have one more day as a family was our biggest motivator. After he passed, the hope that my children would know how much he loved them and that they would still have good lives, despite the loss, kept me moving.
But, even though hope has played such a powerful roll in my life, I’m not always aware of its presence. Perhaps, that is because it is a somewhat innate human trait.
Recently, a simple story recently reminded me of this. Being reminded of how beautiful hope is and how it has helped people for thousands of years put a little more love in my heart, and so I wanted to share the story, in “hope” that it might help someone who is going through a hard time to keep a positive outlook.
Last Saturday wasn’t a Todd Gross Top 10 Weather Day; it was drizzly and dull. The type of day when you light scented candles and do a few light chores, while also preparing and monitoring a perfectly roasted meal.
Actually, that sounds sort of lovely. But, when you have two boys, ages five and seven, it’s not all productivity and soft background music. In fact, most of your “productivity” is spent on curbing meltdowns, and devising activities so they don’t end up either slack-jawed in front of the TV all day or hucking Legos at each other with weapon-like precision.
Part of any good rainy day schedule generally includes story time.
I have a few books that are very special to me. Most are from my childhood, like my copies of The Little Prince and The Velveteen Rabbit. Some are even from my grandmother’s childhood. On this Saturday, I pulled off the shelf a book from my grandparent’s house called, The Wonder Book of Myths and Legends.
The Wonder Book of Myths and Legends
As a kid, I loved all mythology. How they explained the world around us through these neatly-tied anecdotes tickled me. Beyond that, these stories that were thousands of years old transcended time; the basics of being human haven’t changed much. And that made me feel connected to all those who came before me; a pretty powerful emotion from a few ancient myths.
In truth, I hadn’t looked at the book in a long time and had forgotten many of the stories. But, I knew they had entertained me and hoped they would also keep my sons’ attention.
The first story we read was about Pandora. As a very quick refresher, Pandora was the first woman, created by the Greek Gods and sent to Earth. Each god gave her a gift, hence her name which means “Gifted by the Gods.” Pandora headed to Earth and married one of the two Titans brothers, Epimetheus. As a wedding gift, Zeus gave her a large jar (now known as Pandora’s Box). The brothers argued over if she should open it or not. At this time, our world was a pristine and beautiful place, without any ills; much like the Garden of Eden.
But, as one of her gifts, Hera gave Pandora the gift of curiosity. And so, just like with Eve in the Garden of Eden, Pandora’s curiosity and lack of self control caused her to open the box. Upon unhitching the little latch, she inadvertently released all of the evils into the world. The point of the myth of Pandora’s Box is to explain why there are bad things in the world. But, at 40-years-old, I took the secondary theme to be more important.
Poor Pandora realized she alone had released cruelty and treacherousness into a once pure world. Feeling heartbroken, she searched for one more gift she may have missed. And there, at the bottom of the jar was a very small gift, but also a very important one – the light of hope. Something the world had never needed until then.
Excerpt from Pandora's Box
I asked my 7-year-old what he thought the moral of the story was, and he acutely said, “When things are bad, we always have hope.”
Spot on Rhett.
Without hope, Garry may have given up on diagnosis day. I may have quit on the day he died. But, instinctively, we move forward, because somewhere in our hearts and minds we have hope. It is a human characteristic that has existed for thousands of years.
The world has seen many horrors, but people have always had the propensity for determination and strong will, and of course for hope. Those are some of the attributes that have allowed us to survive.
So, on that Saturday, an ancient story reminded me once again of how important hope is. But, I also realize being hopeful is a choice, sometimes it might be a subconscious one, but it is still a choice.
Hope might not be a gift from the gods, but it is certainly a gift we can give ourselves and one we can share with others. I’m pretty sure my boys have it, and I hope you might draw inspiration from the story as well.
Thank you so much for reading! Make it a great day!
A small gift of hope; crocus poking out from beneath recently snow-soaked mulch.