"Faith, as I imagine it, is tensile, and cool, and has not need of words. Hope, I know, is a fighter and a screamer." Mary Oliver, Winter Hours

A fighter and a screamer? Of course! Hope doesn't give it up. Hope goes down to the mat; hangs on by the fingernails, clutches the last knot in the rope. Hope says yes when reason says no, leaves the porch light on and the covers turned down. Hope believes without proof and remains in the aftermath of it. Hope and faith are the daughters of love. Faith makes good grades, keeps her curfew and always minds. Hope on the other hand, gets' tattoos, talks back and gets into all sorts of scrapes. When we are caught in the jaws of life, it is hope that gives us the heart to bear it.