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Seeds of hope

A few weeks ago, thick snow still blanketed the forest floor where I and my partner regularly go walking north of Joliette.  A generous sprinkling of pinecone seeds lay on the snow, a promise of spring and of new growth to come.  Curious, I gathered some and planted them in a pot.  One has come up, and now stands tall at one centimeter.

We have often walked in those woods, our footsteps stepping softly on the spring moss or more loudly as they crush the fallen leaves of autumn.  However, I had never before noticed these tiny, new-born trees, hidden in the forest floor.  I wondered at how often I have missed their beauty, and their promise of hope.

As the current crisis continues to unfold around us, uprooting us from our everyday routines, I also wonder what seed of truth lies at the heart of this event.  What wisdom will take root in the midst of this crisis?  Will we notice the beauty of small things, the sunlight streaming in a window and the gesture of friendship that reminds us of our connection to the earth and to one another?  Will we listen with our hearts, so that we may hear the voice of the voiceless and of those who struggle with despair because of the lack of material and emotional support, in a world that ultimately has no borders.  And through all this, will we remember the deep taproot of love through which we find our being.

The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.                                                                                                                                           ( John 1: 9-14)

— Sheena Gourlay


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