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A hope note

I just read about the unemployed financial manager who wrote a suicidal note about his financial troubles and then killed his wife, four children and himself.
We know that our economic crisis will bring out the worst in some people. Crime, suicides and shooting sprees may go up.
‘Adversity builds character,’ the coach tells his team after they lose the big game. The advice comes off so cold, hard and uncaring ‘ impossible to hear or believe when you’re licking your wounds.
Years after Kentucky’s poet laureate Jesse Stuart suffered a coronary, he came to see it as a blessing in disguise for his overcrowded life. In one of his books, he titled the chapter about his heart attack ‘The Year of My Rebirth.’
Demosthenes as a child was teased by the other kids for stuttering. He cured his stuttering by speaking with pebbles in his mouth. He cured his shortness of breath by reciting poetry while running uphill. He made the history books as one of humankind’s most polished and persuasive speakers.
An inebriated man was down on all fours under a streetlight. A policeman asked him what he was doing. ‘I lost my keys,’ the drunk said. The policeman joined the search. After a while the policeman asked, ‘Sir, are you sure you lost them here?’ ‘No,’ the drunk admitted, ‘not here but over there.’ ‘Then why, pray tell, are we looking here?’ barked the exasperated policeman. The drunk explained: ‘Because it’s way too dark over there.’
We dare not say to Jesse Stuart and Demosthenes when they’re feeling lower than a snake that adversity builds character. But it is often in those dark spaces of life ‘ circumstances we try to avoid like the plague ‘ where, we can only understand years later, character was forged.

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