the beauty of hope

Ben, pourquoi tu pleures? Et Mathilde s'adosse bien droite sur sa chaise, Croise les mains sur ses genoux, Et le regarde. Dans la douceur de l'air, Dans la lumière du jardin, Mathilde le regarde. Elle le regarde. Elle le regarde.

But why are you crying? Mathilde leans back against her chair, Folds her hands in her lap, And looks at him. In the sweetness of the air, In the light of the garden, Mathilde looks at him. And she looks at him. And she looks at him.

Last night, I finally saw "A Very Long Engagement." I went to bed mulling over the absurdity of war and the beauty of hope.

This morning, I woke up thinking about Sandra and Bob and their hope. Two years ago last week, their home burned down in the San Diego fires. They narrowly escaped the Wildcat Canyon inferno with their lives and their dogs.

After losing almost every physical manifestation of the life they've built together (including most of their family photographs and much of Sandra's writing), they had the courage to rebuild Terra Nova on the same spot where it had been before. And that is beautiful.