Moving
Hope changes everything. — Daisaku Ikaeda
A few weeks ago, my little nephew asked his mom to text me pictures of his science project. I felt a wave of anxiety as I scrolled through the images of the classic second-grade experiment: growing beans on cotton balls.
Forty years ago, I had that same assignment. The teacher provided clear plastic cups, beans, cotton balls, and water to each student. My classmates and I assembled our probes and placed them along the sills of the classroom’s many windows.
I was a nervous wreck over this unusual and unfair assignment. I preferred completing my homework in the evenings and having it reviewed by my mother, then double-checking my backpack in the morning to make sure it was still there. Preparation gave me confidence—still does.
It shattered me that I’d have to go to sleep, wake up, and show up at school without any idea of the condition, progress, or demise of my experiment. The lack of control and influence over the outcome was torturous, and the wait exacerbated everything.
I had learned about germination, photosynthesis, and all. But what if it didn’t happen for my bean? What if the science did not work for me and mine was the only cup to fail? The concern was all-consuming, but all I could do was wait—and hope—with the teeniest faith in the process.
After four days that felt like four thousand years, it sprouted. Then roots grew downward, and a shoot shot up. Wow! What a joy! What a relief! What a miracle! I did it!
According to the pictures my sister sent, Samuel’s bean sprouted too! I texted back a congratulatory message. And that same evening, when placing my online grocery order, I added a bag of pinto beans, cotton balls, and a mason jar. I wanted to try it again and make sure that—four decades later—I still could do it.
Of course there were more delicate and beautiful options, like a Paperwhite bulb. But there’s something about the plainness of beans, especially when they’ve been sitting in a brown bag at Whole Foods looking so... dead? Dry? Old? Impossible?
The good news, as you can see in the pictures above, is that after all this time I managed the same feat: my bean sprouted. I did it—again!
I begrudgingly accepted where my powers end and faith begins. That’s a great experiment.
They say it can move mountains.
They Said:
Faith sees the invisible, believes the unbelievable, and receives the impossible. — Corrie ten Boom
The principal part of faith is patience. — George MacDonald
The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. — Barbara Kingsolver
Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all. — Emily Dickinson
Credits:
Watercolor painting by Emanoel P. Barreto, digitally messed with by me.
