I don’t see hope in feathers or the sky

I see hope in the five year old who hears the blare of an ambulance and wants to be the paramedic riding in it one day

the six year old who tugged on her mom’s shirt and lifted her eyes away from her phone to look up at the cherry blossoms

the seven year old who grabbed the small hand of the girl who tripped in the park and scraped her knee on the cement 

the eight year old who picked up the small piece of plastic that had fallen off of her friend’s bag of chips and onto the ground

the nine year old who convinced his friends to start a recycling club at his elementary school, and sold lemonade to buy new bins

the ten year old who entered a cafeteria one day and decided to take two steps to the left instead of right, and sit where he wanted

the eleven year old who keeps reading, even when that one girl makes fun of her

the twelve year old who always wraps her arms around her little sister when she cries, assuring her she’s there for her

the thirteen year old who wrote a letter to congress, because she believes she has a voice

the fourteen year old who went to a march last weekend, because he wants to stand up for his sisters rights not just his own

I see hope in the kids.