Camp Hope

I trust the city mothers and fathers in Minneapolis will understand. This fine portal offered me no choice. I couldn’t choose a South American city. Reviews are allowed of establishments that exist only in the US or parts of Europe. And English only, por favor.
So be it then. I’m forced to take license. I take it without compunction. I joined this community, after all, because I wanted to Unilocal democracy and the moon. After discovering the pesky feature that required an address I retreated. I thought I’d never Unilocal again. It was as if my tongue and heart had been removed with a single cut.
I’ll be brief, as I know that not only can I not tell this story, it resonates inside you already. This is but to underscore what you must already feel.
Minneapolis, btw, is Santiago, Chile’s sister city. Camp Hope is actually in Copiapo, Chile. Copiapo has no sister city in the US; to get it an address I had to use Minneapolis.
Camp Hope, as you already know, is where the friends and families of the Chilean miners lived and prayed those months before the lift pulled the first miner from the ground. Over and above the one in the news, I think that we each have our own personal Camp Hope, inside, though our relationship with it is made dimmer by the noise and invented priorities of our day to day.
The news of last week maybe shined a light on both Camp Hopes.
Camp Hope is where the promise of a better tomorrow lives together with patience and kindness and good will. As its name establishes — Camp Hope offers no guarantees — it only holds possibility. But it’s the awareness of the possibility of Good Things that ensures their occurrence.
So Five Hundred Stars to Camp Hope — the one in Chile and the one in your heart. And five hundred more for the miners. If I go out this Halloween, I’m going dressed like you.