Ena and Ean were now both at the window, staring blankly and absent-mindedly.
Ean noticed a beautiful yellow and black patterned butterfly landing on the window sill.
"Look! Sister! A butterfly!" he cried in excitement
"What about it, Ean?" Ena asked him plainly.
"It's hope."
"Hope?" She paused and thought for a second or two. "Maybe you're right".
The butterfly appeared to be the only bright object against the gloomy cityscape.
"Hope that Father is soon returning, hope, that he is safe and maybe, hope, that we will do just better." Ena added with a smile on her face.
"Yes!" He brightened up.
Before the next day's sun shone over the city, the bell rang.
It was not Father. There was news. Another city had been bombarded. Eyes wide with fear and mind filled with the only thought of their Father, the children nearly screamed at the top of their lungs when a voice from behind the open door called out to them,
"Ena! Ean! I'm home."
YOU ARE READING
Despair vs. Hope
Krótkie OpowiadaniaHow the tiniest objects can sometimes help us stay hopeful when we most need to stay strong. But, we ourselves might not be the ones noticing these. And when we are made to notice, we must hold onto these.
