I get my hope these days from tiny pieces of beautiful goodness.
Like the one little sparrow unafraid to stay on the feeder outside my window when I get closer, closer, closer with my camera.
She likes the sliding click of the shutter, perhaps, because it sounds bird-like.
But no, that's not it. For she likewise eyes me curiously if I tap the glass with a finger, or flipbook-flash her with the bright, pink papers of a pad of sticky-notes.
She leaves. She comes back. She sits on the edge of the feeder closest to me and waits for me to say hello. Four inches away, she stares into my lens-glass with rare openness, and makes me believe (if only for a moment) that the world is full of love.