Now is the time for Caution.
Caution is wise and and firm and smart and tall;
she guards and she plans and she waits.
Caution does not throw herself to the winds of change, tossed from here to there with the tide.
But Caution can be found, always, in her chair by the fire, with clean hands and a soft blanket and welcome on her lips.
Now is the time for Care.
Beautiful and brave and soft and strong; hers is the gentle knock on the door of those who feel so alone. She listens and she loves and she whispers hope into the air like gentle sighs.
And though she is soft, Care will not be discouraged by the winds and the storms that batter her window and scream disaster into the house.
She puts on her workboots, and pulls her scarf up to keep her from the cold, and she goes out, determined to do what she can to help.
Now is the time for Hope:
the gentle voice that can be heard in the breeze, when all is calm and still.
She sits above and she watches all, just waiting for friends to look up and see her outstretched arm.
Hope does not deny that she sees the storm, but rather offers a different view of all that is passing by below.
Hope anchors those that sit at her side, while they reach down to help the frightened faces of those who are swept along in the waves.
They are different, Caution and Care and Hope, but they are friends.
They sat at the feet of the same great teachers; they poured over the same holy texts.
And though wedges are driven between them, they share knowing looks and kind smiles, knowing that each is simply helping as best they can.