The words to one of my parents favorite songs are simple: Would hath hope. It gets cut, but it grows green again. I see Haiti as the subject of the song, more than any tree. Today, the first signs of hope began to trickle in. I learned that many friends and contacts are still alive, and a truckload of supplies for the donated goods drive was brought to my house, with news that three more truckloads are on the way! Hope is in the air, and my thoughts drift to the possibility that even from the greatest of tragedies, new joys can grow, watered by the tears shed for fallen friends and tended by the hope of a nation unwilling to give up.
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