Our last post was about the Trump triggered gloom that so
many of us are waking up to every morning.
We get up in the morning with a case of the heebie-jeebies wondering what
Trumpian mischief we’ll be greeted with.
And then we continue through the day to learn that the President of the United States actually tweeted another inanity or vomited more vengeful bile. It's a routine that's become demoralizing and physically tiring.
We’re less than three weeks into what’s already seemed
like a blackish eternity and hope has been a rarity; a little flicker in a dark dank
cavern of tyranny. But it’s made its
presence known, hope has. And when it
does we smile, pump a fist and exclaim, “Yes!”
In any resistance even the smallest, most seemingly insignificant little
victory is cause for hope. It serves to bolster the notion that we’re keeping
at bay the degradation of our democracy and all that America is supposed to
stand for. Every victory is a promise to
repair the damage to America’s reputation that’s being done by the charlatan squatter
currently occupying the White House.
Hope started the very first day with the Women’s Marches
where legions of like-minded men and women in all 50 states and 60 countries
told Trump and his minions that no, we are not going to go gentle into your dark
night. And since that first day we’ve seen what hope can be and
what hope is.
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