Hope and Faith

TWO: HOPE

Her alarm-clock was set for seven o'clock each morning so that she could wake up and watch the sun rise. Some mornings it came earlier, some it came later. But nonetheless, she was always up at that same time every morning, rising with the sun, ready to start her day.

She enjoyed keeping herself busy. She found that she was most jaded when she was idle. To keep herself busy, she made to-do lists. It not only kept her life organized, but it kept her occupied, always tasked with something to do. She usually wrote to-do lists on Sunday evenings, after Sunday Supper with her parents, and after reciting her evening prayer. She'd sit at her mahogany stained desk, writing away in her notebook, brainstorming ideas, coming up with new tasks to accomplish. You wouldn't think a sixteen-year-old would have much to write on a to-do list – but trust me, Hope Chamberlain did.

Growing up as an only child, she often felt the loneliness, though, she would never let on that she was feeling that way. Hope was good at hiding her emotions. It was a task to decipher her – to read her as a person, know what she was feeling. Was she happy? Was she sad? No one could ever tell. It was as though she was perpetually hiding behind this mask, afraid to let even the slightest crack of light in. Unaware and afraid of the unrelenting opinions of the world, what they thought of her.

So instead, she kept it bottled in. Sealed tight, for extra precaution. She smiled when it was time to smile. She did as she was told and never let anyone down. That way, there would never be any question of how she was feeling or what she was thinking. No one would ever need to know because it truly did not matter. She would play her role in this lifetime, and then she would pass on, joining her brothers and sisters of the earth in heaven.

Suffice to say, everybody loved Hope Chamberlain. And it wasn't just because she was the daughter of Gabriel Chamberlain. No, Hope had built a grand reputation all on her own. Her golden smile could warm even the coldest of days. Her caring hands brought joy to those who hadn't known it before. She baked cookies for the church every week. She held fundraisers for every single social issue you could think of, donating all of the funds to charity. She rescued stray animals, gave them love and found them homes. They called her Mother Theresa. Saint Gertrude of Nivelle. Queen of Angels.

Yet still, there was something about Hope's life that seemed incomplete. As though all of the work she was doing somehow meant nothing. She knew this wasn't true. She fought these very thoughts every single night. The people of Meadow told her each and every day how much of a blessing she was. Her parents recited similar words. The love of her life and the boy she would someday marry, Matthew Whitmore, admired her more than anyone. Yet still, she felt this fear of inadequacy, this burden of unhappiness emanating from deep inside of her. Something she could never quite identify or mend. So she kept silent and continued on with her life as though nothing was the matter. As though her body wasn't turning itself inside out to find the source of this problem.

Every single day was the same for Hope Chamberlain, and because of this pattern of regularity, nothing really stood out for her. Of course she could look back, scanning through her memories, and find times of great happiness and excitement. She could list them off on her fingers. That time her parents surprised her with a kitten. The night she and Matthew walked under the stars for hours and recited their vows to one another, promising each other forever and always. The weekend she was rewarded with the Honorary Persons award for her contributions to the community at church. But other than those few spectacular moments, nothing really stood out for her. Life was like a windmill, and every second, the moments were simply blowing by, passing in front of her eyes, then drifting off into the wind.

On the evening of June 3, 1991, Hope was sitting in the kitchen with her parents, Joana and Gabriel Chamberlain, eating dinner. Her mother had made a giant salad consisting of fresh vegetables picked from the garden, and her father had baked potatoes on the barbeque. They were all eagerly awaiting summer and the beautiful weather that came along with it. Everyone in Meadow had been cooped up indoors all winter, and now they could finally sit outside with their morning tea, wear shorts, turn on the barbeque.

"Twenty-two more days," Joana smiled at her daughter.
"I know," Hope grinned as she stuck another piece of tomato onto her fork.
"Did you finish your geography assignment that's due this week?" her father asked, cutting into his potato.
"Almost. Matthew is coming over tomorrow and we will finish then."
"Did his father say when he needs the toolbox back?" Gabriel asked, chewing.
Hope swallowed. "He says no rush – take your time. He doesn't need it any time soon."
"I'll have it back to him by next week."
"Are you going to join the Campbell's and the Thompson's at the cottage next weekend?" Joana asked her husband.
"I'm still considering it," Gabriel said.
"Gabe, if this is about –"
"It's not," he turned to his wife and gave her a small smile.
"It's their livelihood," she said gently, wiping her lips with a napkin. "You can't blame them."
"I'm not blaming them," Gabriel said to his wife. "They fish. Everybody fishes. Meadow's economy depends on it. I do not have a problem with that. I just wasn't sure if my schedule for next weekend was free."
"Well," Joana placed her fork on her now empty plate. "You can check tomorrow and get back to them. I'm sure they'd love to have you there."
"As I would love to be there," Gabriel smiled.
"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Hope said.
"Who said I didn't want to go?"
She hesitated. "I just thought –"
"I will be there, alright?" Gabriel said hastily. "I will call John tonight and let him know."
It was quiet for a moment.
"I'll get dessert," Joana stood and began collecting the plates.

It was odd, you must admit. A man who didn't enjoy fishing. But then again, there were many things that were odd about Gabriel Chamberlain. Many things that went unnoticed. But being a proud vegetarian – along with his wife and daughter – was not one of them. If anything, it was the right thing to do. The ethical thing to do. The Christian thing to do. Genesis 1:29: "And God said, 'Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree in which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat.'"

_____

Hope was in her room getting ready for bed, the same routine as every night. Put pajamas on, brush teeth, brush hair, read a few versus from the bible, write in her journal, say her prayer, fall asleep. Hope was sitting at her desk, journal open, scribbling away. Sometimes she didn't know what to write. Sometimes she sat there, stunned, staring at the blank page, watching her mundane life pass her by. But other times – times like tonight – she couldn't get the words on the page fast enough. It was spilling from her head, filling the pages with words, versus, thoughts, piano notes. It was probably what she most looked forward to all day.

Once she was finished, she began her to-do list for tomorrow. Take banana muffins to St. Andrews. Go to school. Help Mrs. McConnolly with her art class. Work on geography project with Matthew. Help mom in the garden. Take cherry tomatoes to the Watson's. Brainstorm ideas for final English essay.

She sat back and stared at her list, going over everything in her head to ensure she didn't forget anything. Once she was sure that was all, she closed her book, turned off her lamp, and got into bed. She closed her eyes and began to speak, reciting her nightly prayer.

"Dear God, the Lord Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirits, thank you for blessing me with today. Thank you for blessing me with tomorrow. I put my faith in your hands, trust you to guide the way, invite you to show me the light where I need it. Thank you for keeping me healthy, strong, and able. Thank you for protecting me, and keeping my family safe and healthy. I put my trust in you. I put my faith in you. Always. Amen."