Yet My Hope is Unbroken

Hopetoun, Scotland, 1925 — Evening. Eleanor Hope held the silver spoon in her hands, worn smooth from years of use, now reshaped into a delicate ring. Along its band, the letters “At spes non fracta” were engraved — a family reminder that hope can never be broken. She traced the Latin words with her thumb, feeling the weight of generations, of resilience, of quiet courage resting in her hand. Sliding it onto her finger, she felt it settle like a heartbeat. The ring carried a lesson: life will test you, fortunes will rise and fall, but the courage to hope endures. In that silver circle, Eleanor felt the past and future meet, and she understood that hope, once embraced, becomes a steady force guiding every step.