My Hope, My Comfort

Though far I roam,
that thought shall be
my hope, my comfort,
everywhere;

While such a home
remains to me
My heart shall never
know despair!

- Anne Brontë

I am in Indiana for the week for training with my new job. I am so excited for this opportunity, and this position has been so clearly orchestrated by God. It has been amazing to see all the pieces fall into place and I am so thankful. It can be hard to be away from my familiar place of home, with nobody I know nearby. I enjoy traveling and exploring a city, even when I am alone. But I love this portion of a poem by Anne Brontë because it expresses a true sense of hope and comfort, no matter where she is.

I have been studying the Brontës for nine weeks now, in my Oxford class online, and I have learned so much. Not just about the Brontës themselves, but also how to read and analyse text. Also, how to articulate my thoughts on the literature more precisely. I never paid attention to Anne before this class, but I have grown to enjoy her writings more than I ever thought possible. She writes with such faith and hope, it is inspiring. She watched her sister Emily die, her brother die, and she herself died shortly after that. But she never gave up hope and kept her faith no matter where she was. When she was far from home working as a governess, she dug into her faith for comfort and wrote poetry about it.

And now, here I am, sitting in a Starbucks in Ft. Wayne, Indiana writing a paper for class about one of Anne's poems and one of Emily's poems, and drinking a London Fog (Early Grey tea, steamed milk, and vanilla). I am sitting by a large glass window with the wind blowing furiously outside as I write furiously. Snow is forecast to start anytime. Flurries fell at lunch. How appropriate for me to read Anne's words at this time.