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A time for hope
The hope of pushing yourself high into the sky: rewarded at last.
A couple days ago I noticed the visiting father of a neighbor who is from Northern Ireland. I had no idea what side of that political fence he was on, but I congratulated him on the breakthrough in Irish politics. I said I hoped this was really peace, at last. "Oh, I think it is. We think this time it really is," he said firmly.
This is that rare week in a year of news when all of a sudden hope seems to outweigh despair on the grand scale: pockets of despair are certainly easy enough to find if you're looking. I have to thank the Irish Times for reminding me that Easter is the season of hope and this is one year when the label seems to fit.
I grew up in a family of devout Catholics in Dubuque, Iowa. It was a small city in the middle of the US, 65,000 people, most of whom were Irish immigrants and Catholic. I loved Easter, specifically the day, when the purple shrouds that had covered the statues in our church for the 40 days of Lent disappeared. The church lights came on again after Sundays of gloom, and the sun streamed in through our stained glass windows. Trumpets blew and we all wore our best finery.
It is this ornate and elaborate side of Catholicism that makes some people shudder, although much of the gilt has dulled in recent years, but if you were seven years old it was beautiful. The world on Easter Sunday gleamed and sparkled with hope.
In that town of Irish immigrants, we all wanted badly for Ireland to be a happy place. It wasn't, not for years, despite out Easter prayers. Still, we hoped.
The Irish Times had this to say this morning, after a headline that cried out "Ahern and Paisley's handshake melts away decades of suspicion": "They said it could never be done. After decades of bigotry and hatred and suspicion, the shattered lives, the heartbreak and the hurt; the fear, the cynicism, the false dawns; the oceans of empty talk and the acres of newsprint, the god-awful spirit-sapping sameness of it all."
Other stories carried hope where very recently there seemed to be none.
- British soldiers, captured by Iran, are suddenly free and happily home. A few short days ago no one thought that could happen. Now the arguments begin about whether or not they should be allowed to sell their stories, but there's a note of relief behind the sparring.
- In Somalia, after 15 years of civil war and desperation, the word "peace" is being tested on many tongues. It's a starting point.
Closer to home, in Geneva, a biologist and his team at the University of Geneva, have made a potentially significant breakthrough in cancer research. They have shown that earlier work, where chemical found in a plant stopped brain cancer cells from developing in mice, applies equally well to several cancers. The team is seeking doctors who are interested in carrying out the next phase of the research - testing it on humans. If the tests succeed, the implications for cancer treatment are daunting. [Ed. note: GenevaLunch will publish the story the week of 10 April]
And even closer to home, in my case, our 14-year-old, who is mentally retarded and autistic and very slow to learn anything, suddenly learned to swing by herself yesterday. The smile on her face was as bright as any we'll ever see. She has never stopped hoping and one sunny day her small dream came true.
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A time for hope
The hope of pushing yourself high into the sky: rewarded at last.
A couple days ago I noticed the visiting father of a neighbor who is from Northern Ireland. I had no idea what side of that political fence he was on, but I congratulated him on the breakthrough in Irish politics. I said I hoped this was really peace, at last. "Oh, I think it is. We think this time it really is," he said firmly.
This is that rare week in a year of news when all of a sudden hope seems to outweigh despair on the grand scale: pockets of despair are certainly easy enough to find if you're looking. I have to thank the Irish Times for reminding me that Easter is the season of hope and this is one year when the label seems to fit.
I grew up in a family of devout Catholics in Dubuque, Iowa. It was a small city in the middle of the US, 65,000 people, most of whom were Irish immigrants and Catholic. I loved Easter, specifically the day, when the purple shrouds that had covered the statues in our church for the 40 days of Lent disappeared. The church lights came on again after Sundays of gloom, and the sun streamed in through our stained glass windows. Trumpets blew and we all wore our best finery.
It is this ornate and elaborate side of Catholicism that makes some people shudder, although much of the gilt has dulled in recent years, but if you were seven years old it was beautiful. The world on Easter Sunday gleamed and sparkled with hope.
In that town of Irish immigrants, we all wanted badly for Ireland to be a happy place. It wasn't, not for years, despite out Easter prayers. Still, we hoped.
The Irish Times had this to say this morning, after a headline that cried out "Ahern and Paisley's handshake melts away decades of suspicion": "They said it could never be done. After decades of bigotry and hatred and suspicion, the shattered lives, the heartbreak and the hurt; the fear, the cynicism, the false dawns; the oceans of empty talk and the acres of newsprint, the god-awful spirit-sapping sameness of it all."
Other stories carried hope where very recently there seemed to be none.
- British soldiers, captured by Iran, are suddenly free and happily home. A few short days ago no one thought that could happen. Now the arguments begin about whether or not they should be allowed to sell their stories, but there's a note of relief behind the sparring.
- In Somalia, after 15 years of civil war and desperation, the word "peace" is being tested on many tongues. It's a starting point.
Closer to home, in Geneva, a biologist and his team at the University of Geneva, have made a potentially significant breakthrough in cancer research. They have shown that earlier work, where chemical found in a plant stopped brain cancer cells from developing in mice, applies equally well to several cancers. The team is seeking doctors who are interested in carrying out the next phase of the research - testing it on humans. If the tests succeed, the implications for cancer treatment are daunting. [Ed. note: GenevaLunch will publish the story the week of 10 April]
And even closer to home, in my case, our 14-year-old, who is mentally retarded and autistic and very slow to learn anything, suddenly learned to swing by herself yesterday. The smile on her face was as bright as any we'll ever see. She has never stopped hoping and one sunny day her small dream came true. (continue reading)→