But what I do know about hope is that it is an everlasting and indelible part of my spirit; it is there even when I feel hopeless, a perpetual flame. I have felt its faint warmth even in my darkest moments, even as I’ve sought to squash it. I know the flame, however weak or strong, will burn so long as I live. And near the end of my days, when it is clear that more life is not possible, my hope will evolve into something else, into hope for my children, hope for the human race, hope for my soul.
