He crosses our path all the time. Sometimes, he drops by when we are stressed at work or in school; sometimes he calls us when we don’t feel like doing anything. But most of the time, he’s just there, quietly listening when we feel that no one can hear us and softly speaking to us when we feel that all those around us are screaming. In every way possible he’s trying to connect with us, this dear sweet Mr. Omid. It’s a shame we don’t pay attention to him more often.
I know I’ve talked about hope before, but I feel that it’s worth bringing up again. Hope is, after all, the basis for life and the very last thing to die, and Mr. Omid is just all too swell to be ignored. He is alive just as much as we are, and ignoring him kills him just as much as it would have killed us (if it ever had crossed his mind to ignore us).
But a lot of us do seem to feel that Mr. Omid is too busy for us, and even more so, most of us are looking for him in other countries. What we don’t know though is how sneaky and clever Mr. Omid is because every single time that he has crossed our paths, he has placed a golden seed of hope in our palms to remind us that if we have something beautiful or valuable in our hands, we shouldn’t wait for it to bloom for our own benefit, but plant it for (or at least give it to) others. Because why should anyone who isn’t willing to present hope for others get to sense the presence of hope themselves? And besides, how can they? As long as no one uses the seeds that Mr. Omid has given to all of us, none of us will ever be able to see hope bloom within our own borders.
But it’s alright if it’s been a while since last time we saw him. We’ll see him soon again. And in the meantime, we can focus on being someone else’s man of hope and trust in the fact that in time, our own Mr. Omid will find his way to us like he always does, with a basket full of golden flowers, sprung from the seeds we willingly have given away.