He had always considered himself a jester or a villain, someone brought in only to entertain or to kick before throwing out again; but there he was, in class, and the teacher gave him a script to read. It was a simple story about two friends trying to save a school. He performed it to the best of his ability. At the end, there was a collect “awww,” not aww as in pity or remorse, but in sympathy and encouragement. An eternal “isn’t that cute.” The teacher turned to him and said, “you know, you could play a romantic lead one day.”
The student’s heart became afflutter. Romance was for the main stream, not the side characters. He never dared dream he was worthy of it. But here he was, hoping against hope, dreaming hard enough to be made reality. And the dream remained, though it took him a long, long while to see it achieved. But hope is a wonderful thing, flowers from the pavement, refusing to be quenched once ignited.
We all need a little hope in us. Thank you, Jesus.