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The Color Hope

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Life is not all rainbows and butterflies. There are hard times in everyone's life. There are places where it just doesn't feel like you will ever see the sun again. I know that in my life I have had struggles. I have faced things that looked too big to ever climb over. However, I've been taught that the thunder and lightning only seem bad when you are in the thick of it all. After the storm comes a rainbow. The sunlight finds holes in the clouds just so it can dazzle into beautiful shades of the color hope. The sun never stops shining behind the darkened angry clouds you see. I have found that anything can be worked through. The rainbow, the grass, the sunlight, and the moisture are all the true essence of hope.

 

My storms in my life are raging evermore. They plunder through my rainbow cities every once in a while. The tornadoes of pain rip at the houses on the corner of cupcakes and unicorns street. The tsunami of sorrow can try to wash away the sweet, sugary town of optimism. In these exhausting, desperate times when I have only one option, I look to my own personal color of hope. My color hope has always been my mom. My mom is the voice that breaks up the clouds into tiny cotton balls that insignificantly fall away. My mom is the shining, fire-colored sun that bursts through the thrashing storms to dry the streaming tears that pain and sorrow tugged from my eyes. When my sugary sweet islands of fun were dissolved in sorrowful tears, she is the one who tenderly taught me how to build it back up again. My mother is the face, the essence of my very hope when darkness threatens to take over. My mom is my voice that sings when I think there is no song. She has never left my side in times of heartache and pain. She has looked out for me the way no other mother could. I couldn't count the times she has sung hope back into the blackening corners of my life. In troubled times my mom has always been that guiding voice back to where I belong. Someday, I want to be able to give her back the hope and serenity that she has pushed through my clouded worry. She has helped me to grow and thrive in ways I never could have dreamed of without her. My color hope is my mom and the special times that she has saved my hope and happiness.






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Kfisch said...
May 18 at 10:01 am
I love the description. You can picture the clouds opening up to the sun behind them. Beautiful tribute to your mom and the idea that everyone has hope. You just have to find it sometimes.
 
Halla said...
May 18 at 8:10 am
Beautifully written and a fitting tribute!
 
klsanders said...
May 18 at 2:22 am
I've know your mom for a long time, and this describes her perfectly. She is an amazing woman who has raised an amazing young lady. Good job.
 
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