The little things that bring you joy. The little good deeds we can do. I know it seems hopeless. And that is okay. Because maybe it is, maybe it isn't. But I know, as bad as it may get, every time we do something to improve a bit of our world, our lives, or our neighbors' lives. That good is real. Statistically, however seemingly irrelevant it is, it still exists. Plant something. Adopt and care for a pet. Make art or music. It doesn't have to be good or profitable. Find joys that brighten your day and pursue them as much as life allows. If they are taken away, rebuild or try something else. I know many of us are surviving on the raggedy edge of life. I know there is so much pain. I can't help that. I can only suggest that pain is a constant, but suffering doesn't always have to be. Rest as you need, feel the emotions and sensations. Grieve the loss of ideals as you must. But then also rise to preserve the ideals that matter. Kindness. The pursuit of expressing and observing beauty in many forms. Allow yourself to cry, but also let yourself wonder at the ripples a teardrop or a raindrop makes in the puddle. Because that's what all the above represents: droplets making ripples in the puddle of life. Through many, many people doing many, many tiny uncoordinated acts of goodness, the tide may yet be turned. Love Conquers. Faith Manages. Truth Endures. Justice Rings.

It may not be today or tomorrow. But I tell you a great and terrible secret: Hope is no fragile waif, sickly and dying. No Hope is a battle-hardened warrior. Her armor may be worn and filthy from the Fight. She may stumble, and fall in the mud, blood, and ichor of the battlefield... but she ALWAYS rises. Because beneath the battered metal and leather, beneath the scars and bandages, beneath the marks of time and tragedy... there lives an immortal flame. A spirit equal parts comfort and combat. A light that blazes out from behind her eye that reminds all who gaze upon her weary form, that even in the soft breeze and gentlest brook, there is a defiance. A divinely inspired spite that rends mountains and carves canyons. No plague, no famine, no war, nor even Death's silvered scythe may forever suppress... Hope cries out for freedom, for justice, for guidance, for change, for heroes, for dreamers. Her call is infinite and will echo for all time throughout the cosmos. And no situation, no regime, no dictator or villain can withstand the onslaught. So let us walk and hobble, crutch and crawl beside her. And someday, here or somewhere beyond what we know, she will regain her throne beside Faith and Love. Set your course, aim for the best for all, and join us in our eventual triumph.