A small and poor village close to the coast had always been blessed with good feelings of friendship and happiness. Unlike their neighboring towns, the village had no wealth. Instead they had something better than money. While the wealthy only concerned themselves with how much more money they could make the villagers concerned themselves with more important matters.
Each day the villagers would wake up early to work as best as they could to feed their families with any scraps of money they could receive. But never did they regret this lifestyle. Everyone was perfectly happy even with the small amount of money and the few loaves of bread they ate a week. All the villagers knew one another and were practically one big family. Children were thinner than they should have been but they were happier, always running around laughing and playing. Everybody felt blessed until a child fell ill.
With only a weak mother to support him there was little hope for the boy. He was thinner than all the other village kids and his mother, who’d given all her food to her son was even worse. Both on the brink of death but neither ready to give up. Every day his mother rose early and went to work in the fields in the sweltering sun with only the intention of feeding her son, completely neglecting that she hadn’t eaten in several days. One day, with the image of her son in mind, she fell to her knees, her eyes shutting before she hit the ground.
Several men and woman ran to her side. Her heart was slowing down considerably and her breathing had grown shallow. She whispered her sons name and apologized as a single tear fell from her eye and she laid to rest. The entire village gathered together in the village square, each bringing a bit of food or money along. Together all the men and women gathered bringing anything they could spare. A little girl followed and hearing the adults mention that they hadn’t gathered enough and that it wasn’t possible. It was hopeless. The little girl ran home, coming back with her hands clasped tightly. She cried before the adults and told them she had all they needed. She unclasped her hands. In her palm sat in white baby dove. Its eyes had barely opened and it was almost pink from being a newborn but one thing was very clear and visible, the dove had a broken wing. The adults all looked confused and the girl smiled walking out with the bird.
She took it to the ill little boy and handed it to him. With a smile she promised as long as he carried it he’d get better, everything would get better.
The little girl worked alongside the adults in the fields and anything she made she contributed to the already growing pile of money and food. Each day she carried food to the boy but he only grew worse with time. The little girl also seemed to be growing weaker from all the hard labor she refused to stop doing. The boy shared a bit of his bread with the dove each day and day by day the food seemed to be just enough.
The adults, with help from the little girl, refused to let the boy die and so kept working and contributing money. The girl grew weaker and weaker working hard labor in the sun and giving her food to the boy until finally after a long day’s work she contributed her money to the rest of the money they’d all been saving up. She counted it and with a grin took it all. She started feeling dizzy and sick but despite that she ran to the closest town and headed straight to the shop. With all the money that had been raised she bought what the little boy needed, a small jar of medicine, something the villagers didn’t know much about and never had the money to buy.
Finally she got to the boy just in time and made him take it. She smiled and sat on his bedside as he fell asleep with the dove lying beside him. The girl touched the birds wing and smiled. When the boy woke up the girl was gone, he was better and the bird was flying around to its hearts content, chirping in joy.

In that single moment the boy heard a whisper: “The bird’s name is Hope”