Last week, during dinner, my 6 year old proclaimed, quite confidently, that he had something he wanted to share with us. He explained to us that he had another sense, beyond the usual five, that allowed his wishes to come true. He had wanted very much to be the calendar helper in his class, and used his “Hopesense” to get it.
Of course we asked, “What is Hopesense, bud?”
He clenched his little fists on the edge of the table, squeezed his eyes shut and announced, “This is Hopesense! I wish with everything I’ve got in my heart and whatever I wish for, happens!”
It was the single most cutest thing ever.
We asked him what else Hopesense could be used for. I asked if it would help me get all A’s at school.
“No, silly,” he laughed.
“You’re doing that on your own,” my husband reminded me, “Hopesense isn’t for that.”
I have no idea how my husband became the authority on Hopesense in 34 seconds. Hopesense Ninja.
This Hopesense thing has come up again a couple of times since our son has introduced it to us. It’s such an innocent and pure concept. He’s used it to wish his brother a great game in hockey. He’s used it in the car when we told the kids we were taking them somewhere special and he wanted a certain place. He’s used it as I tucked him in, while wishing for good dreams.
Every single time, his Hopesense works for him. His brother had that great game. The place he wanted to go? We went (and we had no idea that’s what he had wished for). He tells me his Hopesense worked on his dreams too.
Last night, just after the kids were in bed, I got a little weepy about Mum. My little one had sneaked upstairs and caught me teary-eyed. He had come to me for one more hug, as he often does.
I held him tight. He snuggled into me, and I kissed the top of his head.
There was no talk of Hopesense, thank goodness. I didn’t want to have to explain to him that Hopesense doesn’t always work.
He fell asleep in my arms, and I wished hard that my sweet son’s innocence, purity, and Hopesense would stay intact for a long, long time.