Hope sits so close to courage some days. I’ve lived through seasons where the light at the end of the tunnel wasn’t just gone, it was unimaginable. At certain times, I didn’t feel hope. I moved through silence, danger, and uncertainty: Through situations that could cost me everything. Through systems that weren’t built to protect me. Through nights when it was clear that nobody was coming. What got me through wasn’t hope on feathered wings; it was grit. It was waking up to steel my raw, frayed nerves and doing the next thing in a million-step journey. No horizon in view. Moving in survival mode, head down, hands clenched, sweat and tears mixing, and feet plodding mere inches forward. But maybe that’s what hope is sometimes. No grand vision. No clever plan. Just the refusal to stop moving. Just one more breath you didn’t think you had. It’s ugly. It’s painful. It’s wretched. And still, it is the clarion call of a life refusing to give up because somewhere in you, you guard hope. – Tatiana