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It's cold where I am. Snow is falling endlessly. The once vibrant grass is now frozen beneath the ice. The can't seem to move. They can only stand still and wait. Wait for the warm of the sun to get them free. But what if the sun never comes? What if the tiny blades never see the light and are forced to remain stuck... forever? Won't they just give up and die? Probably. Most of them will let go of what little they had and travel into the darkness of death to return to the dirt from which they came. Who are the few that strive to keep alive? The ones with hope. The ones who don't want to give up. The ones who want to live.