At Sir William Osler Public School, Arnie was asked about his favourite word. Without hesitation, he said that his favourite word was hope. In the letters we received after the presentation, students said that he should call with book, Hope because that was his favourite word. I have never forgotten about their suggestion but the simple word of hope was not perfect. A few weeks ago, I searched the word hope on the Internet and came across a poem by Emily Dickinson. Here it is...

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune--without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

This has always been one of my favourite poems since University. I thought about the wings that Arnie and I  carry in our pockets and I thought about the book itself. It combines and overlaps the stories of three people. (Arnie, myself and a fictitious boy who encompasses many of the stories we have heard along the way). After discussing the ideas and the poem with my husband, he came up with the title...

Feathers of Hope

I am so happy to announce that not only has the title arrived, the book is completed! Now we will begin our search for the perfect publisher!