We Don’t Hope Alone

“I hope it rains tomorrow.”

“I hope they like me.”

“I hope there’s cheesecake for dessert.”

Before reading Pope Francis’s thoughts in his book, On Hope, I hadn’t thought much about the difference between ordinary hope and Christian hope. The greatest of all hopes is every Christian’s belief in eternal life. And as the Pope says, “No one learns to hope alone.”

I learned I don’t hope alone from my older brother, Teddy, who died at age five from a heart defect. Through my parent’s loss I learned what I call “The Graces of Teddy”:

• Heaven is a wonderful place! It’s the best party imaginable.
• I already have a friend waiting there for me.
• This life is short.
• I will be seeing Teddy soon.

My parents didn’t consciously teach me that last one. As a preschooler it made sense to me. I lived every day with a happy anticipation for the coming of the reign of God.

Every Sunday when I was growing up, our family visited what we called “Teddy’s Garden,” and those lessons on Christian hope were reinforced. My mother would lovingly clip the grass overgrowing Teddy’s headstone, and we would pray and visit the graves of other people my parents had known. Even when Dad shed a few tears, it was somehow a joyous time in which we decorated certain headstones with flowers. That taught me that we were part of a loving community, some of whom were already at the heavenly party. Hope was cultivated in Teddy’s Garden.

In our parish the support for our family was overwhelming. People donated to a scholarship in Teddy’s name. The funds were to be used for seminarians, and I am sure that the hope was for a future full of vocations. This was a sign of love too.

Now that my parents are at the party in heaven, I have the baby book my mom lovingly made for Teddy. That book, listing all the people who sent condolences and contributed to the fund, feels like a relic. I mean it is, because my parents were such holy people, and we always knew Teddy was our special saint in heaven. Each Christmas, Dad would put a little drummer boy ornament on our tree, representing Teddy still with us while he was already celebrating his life with Jesus. And every family Rosary ended with, “Dear Teddy, pray for us.”

I believe my parents’ inspiring love and the joy of our Catholic community led one of my siblings to choose religious life. That generous living out of a vocation is a confirmation of how contagious hope can be.

Belief in the Resurrection is never misplaced. I want to reclaim the preschooler in me who was free of attachments and ready for heaven any day.

Pope Francis wrote a prayer for the Jubilee 2025, which says, in part, “May the grace of the Jubilee reawaken in us, Pilgrims of Hope, a yearning for the treasures of heaven.” May we be such pilgrims of hope.

And pilgrims don’t travel alone. Now that we both have grandchildren, a brother and I pray a Rosary over the phone on some Fridays. We still end the prayer as we did as children at home, “Dear Teddy, pray for us.”

Who keeps you hoping? When have you yearned for the treasures of heaven? Who do you help to keep their hope alive?

Participating in our Lenten read-along of On Hope? Share your thoughts about this week’s reading in the comments below. And post your thoughts, favorite quotes, or reactions with #lentreadalong and #jubilee2025 on social media.