Somewhere buried under the snow are small brown bulbs encased in the frozen earth. Planted in an act of faith, trusting that after winter, spring will come, as it has come for millenia.
They were planted trusting that the soil will warm again and green shoots will emerge from seemingly lifeless bulbs.
Planted in faith that after a dark winter, the days will get longer and the sun warmer.
Faith that reminds us that even in darkness, there is light. And that light will overcome the darkness.
And in faith that, come spring, there will be yellow crocuses.
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