John Robert was born in a farm family and his father was a horse trainer. When John was a child, he often went from one farm to another with his father. Sometimes they didn’t have enough money to pay for food, but John still loved this kind of life. He even hoped to own a horse farm when growing up.

When he was in school, his teacher once asked students to write about what they wanted to be and do when they grew up. John wrote a seven-page paper talking about his dream of having a horse farm one day. He even drew a picture of a horse farm on the paper.

The next day John handed it to his teacher. Two days later, he got his paper back. On the front page was a large red “F” with some words “See me after class.” And the boy did and asked his teacher, “Why did I get an F?” The teacher said, “This dream will not come true for a young boy like you. Owning a horse farm needs a lot of money. You have to buy the land. You have to pay for a lot of things. There is no way you could ever do it.” Then the teacher added, “If you write this paper again with a simple dream, I will give you a good grade.”

After school he thought about it carefully. At last, he decided to hand in the same paper, making no changes at all. He wrote, “You can keep the F and I’ll keep my dream.”

Many years later, John had his own 200 acres (英亩) horse farm. His dream came true.

So don’t let someone take away your dream. Follow your dreams, no matter what they are.

When I was growing up, I had an old neighbour named Dr Gibbs. He didn’t look like any doctor I’d ever known. He never yelled at us for playing in his yard. I remember him as someone who was a lot nicer than most of the adults in our community.

When Dr Gibbs wasn’t saving lives, he was planting trees. His house sat on ten acres, and his life’s goal was to make it a forest.

The good doctor had some interesting theories concerning plant care and growth. He never watered his new trees, which flew in the face of conventional wisdom. Once I asked why. He said that watering plants spoiled them so that each successive tree generation would grow weaker and weaker. So you have to make things rough for them and weed out (淘汰) the weaker trees early on.

He talked about how watering trees made for shallow roots, and how trees that weren’t watered had to grow deep roots in search of moisture. I took him to mean that deep roots were to be treasured.

So he never watered his trees. He planted an oak and, instead of watering it every morning, he’d beat it with a rolled­up newspaper. Smack! Slap! Pow! I asked him why he did that, and he said it was to get the tree’s attention.

Dr Gibbs passed away a couple of years after I left home. Every now and again, I walked by his house and looked at the trees that I’d watched him plant some twenty­five years ago. They’re extremely tall, big and robust since they have deep roots now. However, the trees in my garden trembled in a cold wind although I had watered them for several years.

It seems that adversity (逆境) and suffering benefit these trees in ways comfort and ease never could. I stood there deep in thought.

Every night before I go to bed, I check on my two sons. I stand over them and watch their little bodies, the rising and falling of life within. I often pray for them. Mostly I pray that their lives will be easy. But I think it’s time to change my prayer (祷词) because now I know my children are going to encounter hardship.

Five years ago, I wrote about the connection between expectations and happiness—lower your expectations and you will be happier: control expectations and despair won’t be so obvious when life does not go according to plan. And perhaps there is some truth in that idea.

However, with reduced expectations, we chip away at hope. And how can we not hope for a better tomorrow? I consider myself to be someone with spirit. I look forward to experiences and anticipate memorable ones. And while it’s important to cope when such experiences fall through. I think it’s even more important to hold onto what was originally present -that sense of hope.

The Times article, Optimism Bias: Human Brain May Be Hardwired for Hope, offers a perspective with roots in evolutionary (进化的) psychology. Hope can be wired in the human brain to enhance survival. If present during trying times, hope can be a factor that allows some to overcome difficulties and gather positivity for the days ahead.

“Hope keeps our minds at ease, lowers stress and improves physical health,” the article states. “Researchers studying patients with heart disease found that optimists were more likely than nonoptimistic patients to take vitamins, cat low-fat diets and exercise, thereby reducing their overall risk. A study of cancer patients revealed that pessimistic patients under the age of 60 were more likely to die within eight months than nonpessimistic patients of the same initial health and age.”

Life is always going to bring us challenges. Life is always going to be comprised of problems that might pull us down. Is it still foolish to have hope? I say it’s not. Because without hope, what are we left with? I say hope is significant. I say it’s a beautiful part of what it means to be human.