THIS happened many years ago! The skies were dark and a heavy cloud hung over us as we drove on roads that echoed the darkness above.
We were two writers in the car, my friend, whose first book published by a renowned publisher, which had been a runaway success, was now stuck with no offers for his second, and I, a newspaper columnist who had just lost a lucrative foreign newspaper.
Suddenly we both looked up from the dismal black road and exclaimed at a glorious sight above: The dark cloud above had a beautiful silver lining.
A sparkling line of hope! Wasn’t it Jean Kerr who said, ‘Hope is the feeling you have, that the feeling you have, isn’t permanent.’
Ah! What lovely lines; It means we know we WILL eventually survive the night and bask in sunshine once again. It does not deny the present darkness, but reminds us a beautiful bright morning is just round the corner.
Brigadier General Robinson Risner spent seven years as a Prisoner of War in Vietnam and there he discovered the power of hope.
He spent four and a half years of that time in isolation and endured ten months of total darkness. Those months were the longest of his life.
One day his Vietnamese captors boarded up his little seven-by-seven foot cell, shutting out the light, making him wonder if he was ever going to make it. He had already been under intense physical and mental duress after years of confinement.
And now, not a glimmer of light shone into his cell — or into his soul. The Brigadier spent many hours each day exercising and praying. But at times he felt he could do nothing but scream.
One day he crawled under his bunk and located a vent that let in outside air. As he pressed against the vent, he saw a faint glimmer of light reflected on the inside wall of the opening.
The Brigadier put his eye next to the cement wall and discovered a minute crack in the construction. It allowed him to glimpse outside, but was so small that all he could see was one blade of grass.
A single blade of grass and a faint ray of light! But when he stared at the sight, he felt a surge of joy, excitement and gratitude like he hadn’t known in years. ‘
It represented life, growth, and freedom,’ he later said, ‘and I knew God had not forgotten me.’ It was that tiny glimmer of hope that sustained the Brigadier through an unbearable ordeal.
That dismal day in the car two writers also saw the same hope and clung on to it; a silver lining that told us we were not forgotten.
Likewise dear reader, if a political scenario, pandemic or stock market crash or some family problem depresses you, look around for your own silver lining, your blade of grass, then let peace fill your heart that a beautiful change is just around the corner..!
