Hope Looks Like This

Not long after we moved to this neighbourhood, someone deliberately knocked down the young saplings in front of our local playground with their car. While the plots for trees on the inside of the playground were never filled. The cement animals were beheaded and maimed, tarred and mutilated. After several run-ins with groups of angry pre-teens while playing there with my son, we gave it a wide berth. And we called it "The Trash Playground," for good reason. Nearly four years later, the trees are back. The trash cans are empty, and while the animals are still without heads and limbs, the tar has been cleaned off. Things are looking up.