A local general store, a sign advertising the annual Poppy Festival* just one week before Memorial Day, and big letters on the side of a building spelling out the words let you know you are in the tiny city of Good Hope, Georgia.
I found myself at the crossroads there that constitute its entire downtown while WWOOFing at my eighth and final farm in the USA (these last two following the publication of my book, Round America with a Duck).
A tricky six-mile bike ride from the diverse Foster Brady Farm (where I lived in a tiny house; planted, weeded, and harvested organic crops; and fed baby goats), Good Hope became more than a destination to me. It became a state of mind.
Good.
Hope.
To have it. To spread it. To use it to empower our next decisions — and actions.
Do we ask for more than that in this world?
Fun fact: I asked people all across the USA if they felt hope, and if so, for what. Read my book and find out what some of them told me.
* in honor of Moina Michael, who was born in Good Hope, Georgia, who started the tradition of giving out paper poppies on Memorial Day as symbols of remembrance of soldiers who had died.
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