This morning, I took a walk and I saw the first ducklings swimming on the river this season. Life goes on. Good to know it.
Hope is a difficult subject for a depressive person. One tends to see only the negative part of the life. And there is no room for hope. But I recently started a new blog (in Spanish) about my father. I’m reading his diaries from the time of the WWII, and after, when he and my mom endured really harsh situations (concentration camp, jail, hunger, the killing of his siblings…) He and my mom never gave up. They always kept their hope alive. Their hope was their faith in God and in the love they had. And they succeeded. after twelve years of forced separation they got reunited and resumed their life in common with their love intact. If they did it, I can’t complain and lose my hope because our times are a little difficult and there are many injustices around us. I need that kind of strong hope.


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