One day, a bright red bird flew over and landed on my window sill. As he peered in at me and I out at him, I thought “what does it mean?”
On my birthday a glorious full moon graced the sky. I could scarcely contain my anticipation - surely this was a sign of something great.
Reflecting back on those events, the red bird flew away, and the moon set as if it were any other night. These things that I had placed special meaning and significance upon disappeared into obscurity.
Where were the rewards promised to me? How foolish I felt for allowing myself to be led astray -- For holding out hope.
Looking deeper and past my disappointment it occurred to me that the gift I thought I wanted may not have been the gift I needed. Perhaps hope itself was the something great.
On my birthday a glorious full moon graced the sky. I could scarcely contain my anticipation - surely this was a sign of something great.
Reflecting back on those events, the red bird flew away, and the moon set as if it were any other night. These things that I had placed special meaning and significance upon disappeared into obscurity.
Where were the rewards promised to me? How foolish I felt for allowing myself to be led astray -- For holding out hope.
Looking deeper and past my disappointment it occurred to me that the gift I thought I wanted may not have been the gift I needed. Perhaps hope itself was the something great.
Again I felt foolish, but this time, for a different reason.
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