I read a letter on Facebook the other day from E.B. White (the author of Charlotte’s Web and Stuart Little) to a man who wrote to him in despair over the bleakness of the human race. It was written in 1973. I can’t say for sure why the man, Mr. Nadeau, thought the world was so bleak, but it could be because he witnessed the horrors of the Vietnam War. Regardless, I loved White’s response and I’m tweaking it so the language is more gender neutral:

North Brooklin, Maine,
30 March 1973

Dear Mr. Nadeau:

As long as there is one upright person, as long as there is one compassionate human, the contagion may spread and the scene is not desolate. Hope is the thing that is left to us in a bad time. I shall get up Sunday morning and wind the clock, as a contribution to order and steadfastness.

Sailors have an expression about the weather: they say, the weather is a great bluffer. I guess the same is true of our human society — things can look dark, then a break shows in the clouds, and all is changed, sometimes rather suddenly. It is quite obvious that the human race has made a queer mess of life on this planet. But as a people, we probably harbor seeds of goodness that have lain for a long time waiting to sprout when the conditions are right. People’s curiosity, their relentlessness, their inventiveness, their ingenuity have led them into deep trouble. We can only hope that these same traits will enable them to claw their way out.

Hang on to your hat. Hang on to your hope. And wind the clock, for tomorrow is another day.

Sincerely,
E. B. White

These used to need winding. Photo by Ales Krivec on Unsplash

I’m reminded of a related story about how things can change quickly. I learned recently that Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceausescu’s regime ended very quickly. He reigned for 21 years, and then in the course of two weeks, that all crumbled. This BBC article gives the whole story, but the abbreviated version is this: protests started mid-December 1989 in Timisoara, which Ceausescu quickly and violently quelled. He gave a live speech on December 21, 1989, where he blamed “fascist agitators” for the Timisoara protests, but the crowd wasn’t having it. The national broadcast was abruptly cut from the airwaves. He and his wife tried to flee the country, but they were captured and promptly executed by a firing squad on Christmas Day.

I mean, I don’t love that they were executed by a firing squad, but nonetheless, this reign of terror that lasted for 21 years did finally end. Because people were relentless. They said, “No, we aren’t having this.” The change didn’t happen overnight, but it did happen, and quickly.

It can feel easy to fall into despair, to lament the state of the world and think nothing will ever change, but what’s more true is that we have evidence over and over again that it does. There is always a break in the clouds and the sun shines again. There are more compassionate, upright moral people in the world than the opposite, even if the news tries to convince us otherwise. We cannot control when or how positive changes will occur, but we can keep “winding the clock.” And that’s exactly what I plan to do.

I dream of a world where we remember tomorrow is another day. A world where we understand there will always be a break in the clouds and the sun will shine once more. A world where we recognize things can, do, and will change. A world where we hold onto hope and do our part by winding the metaphorical clock.         

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.