It’s the last weekday of Hope Week, the first week of Advent. Today I decided to act, in hope, as if everyone is on my side. I’m going to pretend that everyone wants me to succeed, that they are willing to help, that they will greet me warmly.
No major event or challenge brought me to this decision. What prompted this? Well, Einstein, for one. Usually my night owl, this morning he hopped out of bed at 6:30, before I even entered his room to wake him. He grinned at me as he popped out into the hall, fully dressed. “Good morning, Mom! It’s a big day for me!” He galumphed down the stairs with his tween boy gait, making a pounding noise that I normally would shush. This morning, though, I stood dumbfounded at the change in his routine, feeling my own grin mirror his own.
Then I went to wake Blossom and Ladybug. Blossom, ever-cuddly in the morning, climbed down from her top bunk to hug me. Ladybug rolled over, squinted at us, then bolted up from a prone position to standing in a split second. “It’s Sharing Day!” she announced. “Let’s go to school!” Getting her into her clothes came easier than I can remember for months back.
By the time we actually left for school, the three of them bubbled over with pure adrenaline. I practically had to put weights on them to keep them from floating.
After I dropped them off, I got to thinking. Maybe my day will go more smoothly if I expect it to bring me good things, as my kids did this morning. Maybe I ought to greet everyone with my own version of an enthusiastic vision for my day. Probably I won’t hug everyone I see like Ladybug did this morning, even the security guard at the door of her school. Probably I won’t give anyone a slap on the tushy, as Blossom did to me as I dropped her off at school. (So sassy! I looked back at her and she laughed and winked at me.)
But I smiled big enough to show my teeth when I entered the language school grounds today and said, “Good morning!” to the guard as if I really meant it. He smiled back and told me to have a good class. I spoke to every person I passed in the lengthy corridors. I got responses in three different languages from instructors who probably thought I’d been in their class at some point. And when my bookbag threatened to cut off circulation to my arm, I asked a stranger to hold my tea and my pie while I shifted the bag to my other arm. He helped me gladly and even apologized for my discomfort!
It’s going to be a great day. Not for any big reason. I’m just approaching this day with hope, the hope I profess regularly but so often fail to put into practice. The lyric from a favorite hymn runs through my head: “Strength for today, and bright hope for tomorrow.” I’m going to grab a little bit of both for today.