Hope is a Thing with
Feathers – Emily Dickinson
“Hope” is the thing with
feathers -
That perches in the soul
-
And sings the tune
without the words -
And never stops - at all
-
And sweetest - in the
Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the
storm -
That could abash the
little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the
chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea
-
Yet - never - in
Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
As I read this poem by Emily Dickinson and considered its
relation to the story of Immaculee Ilibagiza in her book Left to Tell, I
envisioned a vivid picture of her ninety one days spent in Pastor Murinzi’s
small bathroom with seven other women. Throughout her story, Immaculee delves
into her deep-rooted relationship with God that developed as she prayed
unceasingly in the tiny bathroom. The way Dickinson describes hope is exactly
how Immaculee kept her faith during her hardships and horrors; the hope that
Dickinson refers is the love and promise of God that Immaculee becomes so
familiar and dependent on. Only a crumb of faith was asked of her – similar to
the passage in Matthew 17:20 in which Jesus tells us that we need only faith
the size of a mustard seed to move mountains. The little bird, the thing with
feathers, gave her visions of freedom, safety, warmth, and hope through the
chilly storm. I think that’s a profound thing, is it not?
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