A Song in a Weary Throat

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A Song in a Weary Throat

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Pauli Murray Hope Quarter

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Tonight at work, a coin caught my eye before I even realized why. I was counting down the register when I noticed the word HOPE stamped across a face I did not recognize at first. The letters stood bold over gentle lines, A Song in a Weary Throat.

I turned it over in my hand, and for a second the noise around me faded. Just me, the hum of the store, and this quiet symbol that felt like it had something to say. The Reverend Dr. Pauli Murray. A name carved beneath hope itself. Someone who fought for equality, for identity, for justice, long before people had the words we use now.

The phrase stayed with me. A song in a weary throat. That is what it feels like some days, to keep showing up, to keep speaking, even when your body and mind are tired of fighting to be understood. Yet somehow, there is still a song left. Still a reason to count the next coin, finish the shift, and keep believing that the small things, a word, a symbol, a moment, can remind us who we are.

Hope does not always roar. Sometimes it is a whisper hiding in plain sight, waiting for tired hands to find it.

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#Hope #AutumnReflections #PauliMurray #ChroniclesofaQuietFighter

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