Frank, Gladdie and Hope

Some mornings I waken to discover that there is a song that is already playing in my head.  Sometimes the origin of the song has its beginnings in dreams or the Weather Channel.

Other times, I am at a loss to understand where it comes from.

Sometimes, it springs from the need to encourage a particular emotion or feeling.


Right now I am thinking of Glad Frick, as I sometimes do around Diocesan Convention times.  Glad used to volunteer as the Assistant Secretary to Convention.  And, she loves Frank Sinatra. 

Maybe it was the thinking of Glad and remembering Frank that had me humming High Hopes.

Just what makes that silly old ant thinks he can move that rubber tree plant? 

High Hopes.

So it came as a real surprise when stopped on the interstate in rush hour I happened to look up and see that silly old ant.

High above me.

Hopeful.

That is what I think of each morning when I see that ant. 

I realize that I do live a hopeful life.  Hopeful that the best is yet to come.