In 1733 Alexander Pope, a famous English poet and a Catholic, wrote "An Essay on Man." In that piece is the well-known line, "Hope springs eternal in the human breast."

Pope suffered from childhood tuberculosis that left him hunched over, reaching a height of only 4 feet 6 inches, and he lived in an era that was fiercely anti-Catholic. He must have known a great deal about hope to survive and write as eloquently as he did. His words are as appropriate today as they were 200 years ago.

Hopelessness takes many forms. Current world, local and personal events trigger these feeling at times. Each of us has a demon resting inside that threatens to extinguish the joy of life if we allow it. Hope, however, is plentiful and does "spring eternal" if we recognize it and understand that sometimes it is found in unexpected places.

A few weeks ago Uncle Henry died at the age of 89. He was the youngest son of Italian immigrants who initially settled in Colorado and eventually moved to the Los Angles area. He played football for Loyola University (now Loyola Marymount University) and was a member of the Burbank police force for over 30 years.

His funeral liturgy was a tribute to a good man and certainly a source of hope. The first few rows of the church were filled with police officers that came to pay their respects. The homilist reminded everyone present that Henry was a kind man, always concerned about the welfare of others.

As he spoke, I was acutely aware of the presence of my grandfather, Henry's brother, deceased for over 30 years. They looked nearly identical, as does Henry's son. This realization brought with it a strong sense of hopefulness in the future knowing that the family has continued generation after generation, strong and intact.

At the end of the service Henry's oldest daughter and a grandson spoke for the family. They talked about a father and grandfather who cooked their favorite breakfasts and took them camping and fishing. Each ended by saying that they knew they would see Henry again in heaven. Their words were simple and straightforward; they were also hopeful.

Baby Marco is a bundle of hope. His little fingers and toes are so perfect there is no way to dispute the existence of a good and loving God. He smiles and your heart melts.

He worms his compact little body in and out of corners and peeks through the slats of his bed so quickly and effortlessly that everyone marvels. His presence is so life-giving and full of hope for the future. He calms as well as excites.

When he comes into a room, his bald little head is on a swivel as everything is new and awesome for him. He points and chortles and sings and laughs, and there is no way you cannot join him in a sense of wonder at the world.

Rosa is another source of hope with her music. She left piano playing behind years ago, but within the past few months has picked it up again. As she plays Beethoven it is easy to relax and feel the beauty of life. Her overall positive attitude is infectious but the music adds a very special touch. Rosa never fails to bring hope with her kindness, wit and music, especially at those times when it feels like hope is nearly gone.

It is a conscious decision to be hopeful, especially in the face of the images of war and the corruption and manipulation in other areas of life that so often disappoint us and make us want to turn away or at times even run away. It is easy to get sucked into a downward cycle of despair and cynicism when times are difficult, or we think our leaders are failing, or we see our families in trouble.

However, given a bit of quiet time to think about it, each of us could come up with countless sources of hope in our lives. It might be wise to focus on those sources, and work to bring change where it is possible to create change.

Anne Hansen is a parent education consultant and a parishioner at Blessed Junípero Serra Church, Camarillo. Her e-mail address is familymail@aol.com.