Hope: On Ringing the Bell

In the elevator lobby on the fifth floor of Duke University Hospital, someone has painted a bird and part of a poem on the windows. The poem is Emily Dickinson’s.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all 

In the courtyard between the parking deck and our preferred entrance to the hospital is a bell with a placard, “The Sound of Hope” with encouragement to ring the bell to share hope with the Cancer Community at the Hospital. (The Cancer Center entrance is also located off of that courtyard.)

I walked by both of these several times before my eyes adjusted to the point where I could really take them in. Once I noticed them, they became part of the routine.

Our granddaughter, Thea, has been in the hospital since she was born, nearly five months ago. This was unexpected. More than four of those months were at Duke Hospital. The drive over, finding a parking spot, walking in, and getting visitor passes became nearly a daily rhythm. On exiting the elevator, my eyes sought the verse of the poem. Hope is the thing with feathers… Hope sings a song…Hope sings without the words…Hope never stops – AT ALL. A visit with Thea and her parents. A quick “thank you” conversation with an amazing team member. A kind “hug” of a glance from the check-in team members. (We were there often enough that many of them knew us by name.) And then, the walk back to the elevators (most days with misty eyes as I considered the strength of our son and daughter-in-law and Thea’s resilience and steady eyes that hold no fear). Hope never stops at all…Hope sings a song…Hope is the thing with feathers…Call the elevator, walk the long walk back through the corridors, turn in visitor pass, return to the courtyard, walk with purpose to the bell. Ring it with freshly mustered conviction.

I soon found that I couldn’t walk past the bell without ringing it. How could I not let the sound ring out across the courtyard? Why skip the chance to encourage others? Certainly, my own soul needed to hear the peal of the bell. My heart needed to feel the rope in my hand and ring it loudly as a declaration and a proclamation: “My hope and faith are in God’s mighty power and His presence, even when things are scary, and I feel weak.”

Thea’s team at Duke referred her to Cincinnati Children’s Hospital, where she has been since mid-December. She is doing well and is scheduled for surgery soon. We are so grateful! While I am missing the frequent visits, physically ringing the bell, seeing the words of the poem, and ESPECIALLY, laying my eyes on Thea and Nick and Molly, my hope is strong and secure. The peal of the bell rings loudly in my soul. The words of the poem are on repeat in my heart.

Colossians 3:15
And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed
you were called in one body. And be thankful.

Romans 5:3-5
And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory
in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 
perseverance, character; and character, hope.
And hope does not put us to shame,
because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts
through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness
Edward Mote