When Emily Dickinson wrote the poem “Hope is that thing like feathers” in 1861, she couldn’t have imagined a world like we have today, so desperately in need of hope.
Yet it is a modern-day reminder that at any time, under any circumstances, we all need hope
“that perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words…
And never stops at all…”
Her metaphor of a bird as hope always resonates with me. When I returned to my Altadena home after the fires, it felt devoid of voice, like someone trying to speak but unable to form words.
When I heard the chirp of the first bird outside my window, I was overwhelmed with hope.
But today, as I wrote this on the first day of Hanukkah, I did not feel the feathers kissing my cheek. Today, as I woke up to the news of the anti-Semitic terror attack on Jewish families gathering to celebrate the holiday on a beach town in Sydney, Australia, I felt empty and desperately sad.
Paired with news of the shootings at Brown University, it was quickly turning into an “I don’t want to get out of bed” day. OK, Emily, where is that little bird now?
As all this was happening, a package was left on my porch. I was so involved in the horror playing out on my television screen that I didn’t even hear the doorbell ring. It was only later when I went into the kitchen to make tea that I looked out the window and noticed the festively wrapped package. It was half-hidden behind two flower pots. Someone wanted me to get it safely.
I pulled it across the porch with my cane. A card was attached that said, “From your Pasadena Jewish Temple family.” Inside was a Hanukkah care package and a check that was sent to each of the temple members impacted by the Eaton fire, from congregants and local aid organizations. The package was from Operation Hanukkah in Texas, in partnership with people of all ages and religions from across the country who created handmade Hanukkah decorations.
Each item had a handwritten note. I’m still reading, but these two caught my eye.
“Never give up. You are loved always” – Pearl, age 7, Colorado.
“With love from the Church of Latter-Day Saints” – Stake Cibolo, Texas.
And there it was. The thing with feathers had returned.
Emailpatriciabunin@sbcglobal.
