It’s been two years since I wrote my “Hymn of Hope for Woodwind Quintet” and during the time between then and now the need to try to remain hopeful has grown ever more pressing.

The piece is brief, just over four minutes long. It is not a rouser, it will not make listeners leap to their feet.

Instead, it’s a quiet reminder that kindling and maintaining hope is essential for our mental health.

I like to recall something Abraham Lincoln said. He was not talking about preserving the Union or abolishing slavery or binding the nation’s wounds or governance of, by and for the people. Those are vastly complex subjects and he had plenty to say about them. But the quotation I want to share amounts to just a few wise yet simple words about how to live:

“Most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.”

I often think of those words. I weigh my options. Do I want to be happy or at least feel that I am engaged in the pursuit of happiness? Yes, I do. Well then, I say to myself, do the things that make you feel happy.

Creative work, teaching, gardening, planning and preparing meals, writing these weekly emails … and -- never mind the disastrous news reports that pound us every day -- always reserving a portion of my mentality for feelings of “hope.”

Hope often makes no sense because it can seem baseless. When we are convinced that we are careening over the cliff, remaining hopeful seems ridiculous.

But I am not hopeful because it is logical to be hopeful. I only know that I feel better when I feel hopeful, illogical though it may be.

Martin Luther said it well:

“Even if I knew for certain that the world was going to end tomorrow, I would still plant my little apple tree.”

This “Hymn of Hope” speaks to the quiet nurturing of hope. It’s not “a flag-waver” nor an anthem like “Climb Every Mountain” or “This Land is My Land.” Nor is it a call to action like “Lift Every Voice and Sing” or “If I Had a Hammer.”

It is, instead, poignant. It opens with a tentative introduction. The music is slowly finding its way. It is, perhaps, the music to express what we might feel immediately after a setback, a tragedy. Then, cautiously, the music rises into hope.

The “hymn” begins quietly at 47 seconds into the piece and swells from there.

If you listen carefully, you will hear crickets chirping in the background. I don’t mean some musical device, but actual crickets. Now there’s a hopeful sound! The piece was performed in our back yard by the In Vista Winds for a small audience of friends and family. The applause at the end is brief and subdued because there were only a few listeners.

And because the piece does not demand a thunderous response. In fact, all the piece has to say, really, is: “We can be about as hopeful as we make up our minds to be … hope, like happiness, is a choice we can make.”

To hear the recording, or see a PDF of the score, click on the links above.

I'd love to know what you think about this music; feel free to reply if you're inclined. But please don't feel that you are expected to reply. I'm just glad to share my work in this way.

As always, feel free to forward this message to friends who might enjoy it.

Anyone can be on my little list of recipients for these mpFrees (as I call these musical emails). To sign up, people can email me at rick@sowash.com, sending just one word: "Yes." I'll know what it means.

Rick Sowash
Cincinnati, OH
March 23, 2025