He falls to his knees, throwing his full weight into gravity’s greedy hands. The muscles relax for just that single moment as he gives himself completely over to the relentless, unforgiving force. Each patella strikes the pavement; the blows fail to be cushioned by the puddle that has gathered there. His torso heaves forward, forearms slamming to the ground as he hunches over, sobbing. He jerks his head to the sky, mouth open, screaming. Eyelids clenched tightly against all the universe, he cries out, tears running down his face. The rain continues to pour, drowning the streaming products of his eternal sadness. “There is no hope!” comes the shout from his tired lungs. “There is no hope!” screams his aching soul. “There is hope,” comes the whisper in his ear, but he does not hear over his desperate cries.

The child whispers again. “There is hope.” She reaches out a hand. The rain streaks her face, but her eyes remain bright. “There is hope,” comes the soft promise once more. “Open your eyes; I can show you the way.”

The death knell that rings forth from his convulsing diaphragm deafens his ears to her quiet pleas. He pounds his fists into the ground, splashing dirty water onto his face. His eyes remain closed. “There is no hope!”

Just ahead, the sun shines and the fields are green. Though she knows the way, she remains at his side. “There is hope.”

You just have to open your eyes.