On my mantel, where I keep all the books I want to get around to reading someday, there’s a copy of a book by Charles Peguy called The Mystery of the Charity of Joan of Arc. It was gifted to me by a lovely couple several years ago when I baptized their baby. Alas, I’ve started to read it several times now and have never made it very far. I know, someday, I’ll pull it down from its resting place, open it up, something will click, and I’ll fall so in love with it I’ll wonder why in the world I didn’t read it sooner. That’s the hope, at least.
Recently, my kindly editor here at Aleteia, John Touhey, asked if I’d be interested in writing a reflection on a different book by Peguy, The Portal of the Mystery of Hope. It is one of Aleteia's Big Winter Books for 2025. Plus, this entire year is a jubilee dedicated to the virtue of hope, so the topic is timely.
Because I’m reckless by temperament, (I’m worse than an improv actor and always say yes) I quickly agreed even though I’ve struggled to read Peguy in the past.
I guess hope does spring eternal, because I love The Portal. I read it all the way through in only two sittings, which for me in these days of declining attention-span is a herculean achievement of focus. It was something of a jubilee miracle.
The dynamic virtue of hope
Published in 1912 in French, The Portal is a prose poem that meditates on hope as a dynamic virtue that brings youth and life to the other virtues. Peguy goes so far as to claim that Christ himself, in his human nature, practices the virtue of hope as he yearns for the salvation of sinners. This means that when we hope, we unite ourselves to Our Lord in risking everything to grasp the very best God has to offer.
Only an exhausted culture refuses to take the risk of hope. So don’t play it safe, Peguy implies. Even if the hope of Christ led him to the grave because that’s how to save the world, it also hope that guides his rising.
“Because children are more [God’s] creatures. Than men are. They haven’t yet been defeated…” - Charles Peguy
Why is hope like a little girl?
The real question I had as I began reading was why Peguy insisted on describing hope as a little girl. Faith and Love are mature women, he writes, they’re steady like a “loyal wife,” or, “a mother,” but hope is more surprising. She’s like a child, a little girl who, as the three virtues are making their procession to Heaven, dashes back and forth. She runs up ahead of the other two, then back, then ahead again. In such a way does the little girl hope behave with all the enthusiasm of a young child. It’s a striking image, but what does it mean?
It all has to do with the particular qualities of children. All the virtues are naturally present in children, Peguy writes, “Because children are more [God’s] creatures./ Than men are./ They haven’t yet been defeated…”
We adults are jaded and world-weary. We’ve had our disappointments, perhaps witnessed the death of people we love, spun our wheels trying to get ahead in the world, had our difficulties with making spiritual progress. We’ve given into sin and vice and learned (wrongly) to despair of ever being free of them.
If we’re careful and patient, those defeats make us stronger and wiser. We learn to overcome sin, to love more deeply, and have a more trusting faith. Our struggles may even strengthen our hope, but they also may dampen our hope. The choice is ours.
A childlike perspective
The key to recovering hope, says Peguy, is to return to a more childlike perspective. Children don’t yet have the spiritual maturity that adults develop, but because of their innocence and trust they do possess the virtue of hope in abundance (which is why Our Lord tells us weary adults to become more child-like; the trick is to remain young ever as we mature).
For a child, all of life is possibility. Children dream of becoming astronauts and princesses. My own children are confident in sainthood and happiness. They haven’t even bothered to make a plan, let alone be disappointed. They know the simple delight of anticipation. They are happy to be alive, to be running in the grass, to have a candle lit during dinner so the occasion becomes fancy. The cry of children is “purer than the voice of the wind in the calm of the valley.”
Hope is that little girl, crying out for joy, running back and forth for the sheer love of running. Adults are always trying to get somewhere. We have a practical destination in mind. Children, however, delight in the journey itself. Their hope is so strong they never question the destination.
"Faith is a loyal Wife. Charity is a Mother. An ardent mother, noble-hearted. Or an older sister, who is like a mother. Hope is a little girl, nothing at all." - Charles Peguy
Skipping along the path
Peguy comments that, while faith is an important virtue, it “sees what is,” meanwhile, hope “sees what will be.” Hope is always making a beginning, exploring potential, moving the world forward. To read his words literally, this has always been my experience when we go on a hike. The children race back and forth from tree to tree, laughing and skipping and singing. I call out to them to not get too far ahead because they don’t know where we’re going. They know that I know and that’s enough for them. They’re not trying to get anywhere specific.
For my part, I’m happy enough to watch them run back and forth, or as Peguy puts it, “return twenty times along this path.”
I suspect that, if I were to run along with them, I’d soon tire out and wonder why I’d made the hike 20 times longer. To me, the wasted steps would be galling, but the hope of children knows better. They know the steps all add up. The steps count for something.
When each day is valuable and everything counts
Now, of course, Peguy is writing metaphorically of our spiritual journey and our lives as a whole. Often our days feel repetitive, as if we’re retracing steps and wasting time. But this isn’t true. The virtue of hope, that little girl hope, knows each day is valuable. Each repetitive small act of kindness, each day of doing good work, another Rosary, another day raising our children, praising God for the gift of yet another sunrise, each Sunday Mass – it all counts. If we don’t see with eyes of hope, we experience the repetition as having minimal value, but hope knows that God straightens our turning steps. Each one is a step closer to the gates of Heaven.
The trick is to keep moving. We are always making beginnings, always starting out, always seeking to fulfill our potential. Hope makes us young. It’s the childlike spirit that brings vitality to the virtues of faith and love. With hope, our faith and love to expand and reach out to that which is not yet.
Where are we heading? It actually doesn’t matter all that much. Jesus knows the way. Hope assures as much. Become like a child, says Peguy, and enjoy the journey.