For this first week, I am starting with something manageable. And I am trying to right a wrong. I will learn “‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers” by Emily Dickinson. I feel I owe Ms. Dickinson a bit of an apology. For buying into the spinster hermit nonsense and for failing to see her as the marvelous rebel that she was. I mean, I realize that she is not exactly suffering from the grave for my teenage disaffection, but her work deserves more respect than I gave it as a student. “Hope” has been co-opted as a mantra of redemption by some and the object of derision by others. But Dickinson gets it just right. Hope bouys us along and yet never seems to need tending of its own. What a gift.