What Gives Me Hope

When Opportunity Arises – Ashley Welde

Given the chance, would you go back in time? Did you allow yourself to learn and grow, Or was your headspace at an all time low? The past year has certainly been a climb, But what did you gain from all the downtime? At first, I’ll admit, the days passed very slow, But oh, how I miss that quarantine glow. It was not a disservice, just out sign.

Tomorrow is not guaranteed; live now! Within the restrictions, do what you can, Better your mind and body; take the vow. Do something you’re proud of your whole lifespan. Then when it’s all over you can say “wow, Look who I’ve become, such a wise young man.”

The Climber – Lorenzo Carletti

Up ten-thousand feet and maybe more, The climber reached heights never seen before. Never taking a moment to stop, He only wondered what was at the top. This endeavor he had begun in his youth, A lifelong commitment to discovering the truth. Photograph by: Sara Ledyard He had left all he had known behind, Without being sure what he hoped to find.

The village down below sang his name, Told tales of the climber who dared trespass into the sky, And though he had earned great respect and great fame, The message never reached him up so high. And so time went on and so the years passed. And the climber finally arrived at the crest. And he stood and looked down, and saw no one around. The village had already declared him deceased.

What Gives Me Hope – Erin Sullenberger

Throughout the past couple hundred years, the United States has been viewed as a place of refuge, a place of hope. Families who were getting persecuted for their religious beliefs sought a home in the land whose “streets were paved with gold”. Individuals who could not manage to own more than a square foot of land took to the seas to restart their lives where they thought they could prosper under the American Dream. Immigrants, today, are still risking their lives just for the chance to step foot onto this American soil of freedom. And I am a grateful American citizen; do not get me wrong. I have been given such splendid opportunities to flourish in this country. I live with a wonderful, adoring family who provides me with all the love and support I need. I will soon be attending college at the magnificent Boston University on an athletic scholarship, and, if all goes well, I should be debt-free by the end of my four years there. But, despite all of these opportunities with which I’ve been blessed, there has always been an empty part of my life.

I had always fantasized about moving to a foreign country. I’m a natural writer who loves to revel in peculiar and far-flung ideas, and that has always just been who I am. But I’m also a lover of the game of soccer. I love to play the beautiful game, and I love to watch it as well. And the international sense of community I’ve always felt with every European game I watch on TV has drawn me even closer to this sport because, as I indicated, I’m a lover of foreign cultures. I love watching the fans dedicate their lives in a way I’ve never truly experienced toward the same team I love.

Last summer, I spent a month in Germany on an exchange program. But before I ventured off to pursue the vacation of my life, I had the opportunity to host my fellow exchange student here in America, and moreover, I had the opportunity to meet all of the other fellow German exchange students in our group. There was one evening where all of the students convened in the high school gym to face off in a soccer match: Germans vs Americans. That was undoubtedly the most exciting part of that half of the exchange, for I met two Germans who also adored the game as much as I do, and we had a great time playing together as international opponents.

On the second night after I arrived in Germany, I attended a birthday party with about fifty or sixty other Germans and Americans. Rather than doing the typical "party" activities, I opted instead to play a game of soccer with some of the Germans. I had such an amazing time, and one of the boys I played against there invited me to train with his team.

So of course, a week later, I purchased a set of soccer cleats and walked onto the field with about twenty local german sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen-year-olds. Throughout the entire hour and a half, I had had such an amazing time revelling in the culture. There was one instance where the German word for shoot is schiess, and I, trying to blend in with the German culture, accidentally said scheisse, which is the sword, and I’ve never cursed even in English before! All of the guys laughed along with me, but nevertheless, the entire match was unforgettable. By the end of the training, I had had such a wonderful time. I received a text message from one of my new friends that read: “It would be great if you could play with us again…. You are also very good, a lot of my team members said that. In Germany, we didn’t met so often a female soccer player with the quality and the ambitions you got. Be proud of that, it’s very special.” Of course, some of the language is incorrect, considering that a native German wrote this to me, but that message practically made the highlight of my trip, for I then truly understood what the cliché love for the game means. My favorite thing to do in the world is the same as it is for millions of others: we all love to play soccer (or football). And now, I was creating an international community of friends whom I could always visit and with whom I could always play.