introduction Dear Reader, In 2018, I published a book called Hope Nation , sort of an older sibling of the book you are reading, because I wanted to share stories of hope with the teens in my life who were struggling. Since then, I''ve been lucky enough to visit with young people who have read stories from that collection, and I have gotten to hear about how those stories have helped them through hard times and made them feel a little less alone. In 2020, the world as we had known it changed. COVID-­19 changed the landscape of how we live, look, go to school, and interact with others. The daily reminder of how our own lives can be turned upside down made me realize why it''s so important to hang on to hope. It''s not always an easy thing to do--­sometimes, it feels downright impossible--but the thing I know is that difficult times in life come and go; with those experiences, we grow as people. The key is to find ways to motivate and inspire our spirits--­stories of hope can do that. In this collection, I''ve asked some of my very favorite writers and friends to share a true story from their own personal lives.

I hope hearing them share their own stories of challenges they''ve faced in life will help you find your own voice. Each of us has a story that''s worth sharing and celebrating. It''s also worth noting that, like choosing hope, we can choose to do good, and for that reason, Hope Wins is a charitable endeavor. My contributors committed to creating this book with me as a means to support the North Texas Teen Book Festival (NTTBF), an annual book festival that serves thousands of young readers each year. For their willingness to dig into their memory chests and share with everyone, I thank them all and am forever grateful. For me, making a decision to choose hope is grounded in the love and support I receive from my family and friends, especially my daughters, Madeleine and Olivia, and my husband, Michael. Thanks to each of you for joining me on this journey. It''s not always an easy path, but it''s one worth taking.

Remember that no matter what happens, hope wins. Dr. Rose Brock Grapevine, Texas 2022 Everything I Need to Know I Learned in a Thai Restaurant by Christina Soontornvat This is not a knock to any of my teachers, but the most important things I''ve learned weren''t taught to me in a classroom. They were taught to me in a restaurant dining room (and the kitchen and the cashier''s station). When I was three years old, my parents opened a restaurant in the small town of Weatherford, Texas--­the first Asian restaurant in the whole county. My dad, an immigrant from Thailand, saw it as an incredible business opportunity. He was right: loyal customers kept our little family restaurant open for nearly forty years. When I was a kid, I never gave much thought to what it meant to grow up in that environment--­it was just my everyday life.

If you had asked me then what the best part of spending so much time at the restaurant was, I would have said it was the endless flow of fountain drinks and free spring rolls. But now I realize that I learned some big, important lessons about people and about life. And now--­like a crispy, hot spring roll passed from fryer to plate--­I pass these lessons on to you. *** THE WAY TO A PERSON''S HEART IS THROUGH THEIR TUMMY Our busiest shift of the week was Sunday lunch. Almost the whole town of Weatherford went to church on Sunday mornings, and then they would show up at our door as soon as the services were over. We''d often have a line that stretched out onto the sidewalk! Most of the people who lived in our town attended Christian churches. And then they came to eat food prepared for them by people who were mostly Buddhists. When we first opened, we called ourselves a "Chinese restaurant" because at that time (in 1983), people there weren''t familiar with Thai food.

Over the years, we gradually introduced more and more Thai cuisine to the menu. And we also introduced more and more people to Thailand and our culture. Some of our customers even took trips to visit Thailand. Sometimes they met up with our family who lived over there! So many connections were made between Thailand and Texas: two places that are on opposite sides of the globe from each other. And it all started with food. Food is simple and primal. It is unifying. I wish people in this world had more chances to share food with each other.

How can you be angry when you''re chowing down on a dish of garlic chicken? How can you judge someone when you''re sharing a plate of dumplings with them? I''m not going to say something silly, like the solution to world peace is to have political leaders take their meetings at family restaurants. But maybe it wouldn''t hurt? Maybe they would pass better laws if they also passed each other the shrimp fried rice? And maybe they would also realize that everyone, everywhere deserves to eat good, wholesome food in a safe place. Maybe they would realize that it''s not so hard to take care of each other. Food is love. Food is peace. And if you don''t believe me, let''s eat some mango and sticky rice together. You''ll come around. GIVE THE DUCKS THEIR DUE Mmm, duck.

Tender, with a crispy skin, and drizzled in a sweet, spicy sauce . Sorry. Where was I? There is a well-­known metaphor that says a good restaurant is like a swimming duck: on the surface everything looks calm and smooth, but underneath, the duck is furiously paddling its little feet to keep moving across the water. This was a pretty accurate description of our restaurant. When customers came in, we wanted them to feel like they could leave their troubles at the door and let us take care of them. Their table would be clean when they sat down. The food would be hot and tasty. Their iced tea glass would be refilled before they could even ask.

Serenity. Air-­conditioning. Smooth instrumental pop hits playing on the stereo. Back in the kitchen, it was a whole other story: crowded, hot, and noisy! Cooks slinging sizzling food in the woks, rice cookers filling the room with jasmine-­scented steam, waiters shouting that they needed that order of pad ka-prao five minutes ago! "Two century noodles, one with chicken! One with no bean sprouts!" "Where''s table nine''s appetizers?" Staff in the back stuffing wontons, crates of dirty dishes being washed, and the clean ones being carted back out to the dining room. Go, go, go! Seeing what happened behind the scenes was one thing I loved most about growing up in the restaurant. It was like knowing a secret no one else did. And it showed me that there are so many things in life we take for granted when they go smoothly: our schools, our homes, the businesses we frequent. But there is no one who works harder than the people whose work we take for granted.

I try to give those people grace and gratitude because I know that underneath it all, their feet are probably paddling like heck. KEEP CALM AND RESTAURANT ON As a little girl, my one restaurant dream was to work the cash register. Our cash register was gray, as big as a microwave, and had these brightly colored buttons that made the most satisfying clack when you pressed them. When I turned twelve, my parents decided that I had finally earned the right to ring up customers. On the big day, I proudly pulled up a stool, put on a big smile, and uttered my first "How was the meal, folks?" as I punched the buttons: clackety, clack, clack . One woman came up to pay with a credit card. No problem, I had been trained on this procedure. But as I was ringing in her amount, I must have gotten a little too carried away with the clacking, because instead of charging her $50, I charged her $5,000.

Sweat beaded at my temples, and I imagined this woman screaming at me and making a scene. I didn''t really understand financial matters, so I thought that I would have to pay for that $4,950 mistake out of my own allowance! I smiled at her and said, "Will you excuse me one moment, ma''am? I just need to get an extra roll of receipt paper from the back." Be a duck, be a duck, be a duck , I thought as I hurried to the kitchen and told my mom what I did. She came out and was able to miraculously issue the woman a refund without much fuss. I thought my mom would be so mad at me and revoke my cash register privileges. Instead, she was proud that I hadn''t freaked out but had solved the problem quickly and calmly. I felt proud, too. That day, I had earned my duck feet.

YOU CAN''T JUDGE A HUMAN BY THEIR HANDBAG In the service industry, sometimes you hear people say, "The customer is always right," but actually, sometimes the customer is extremely in the wrong. One afternoon, my mom was ringing up customers as they paid their bills. Clackety, clack, clack . Mom greeted the next customer in line: an elegantly dressed middle-­aged woman. The woman set her large designer handbag on the counter to free her perfectly manicured hands so she could sign her check. She accidentally bumped her handbag with her elbow, and it tipped over, spilling out multiple sets of our cutlery: knives, spoons, and forks (no chopsticks). Mom stood there, blinking, trying to figure out a polite way to say, Um, excuse me, ma''am, but are you STEALING OUR SILVERWARE in your four-­hundred-­dollar purse? The woman blinked back at her a couple of times, finished paying for lunch, gathered up her bag, and left without a word. She left the silverware, but she did not leave a tip.

Which brings me.