I adore themes of hope and courage and the ways we find meaning

“I adore themes of hope and courage and the ways we find meaning through suffering.” Thus spoke Ruta Sepetys, the modern chronicler of forgotten sorrows, whose novels give voice to the silent and the oppressed. In this simple yet profound statement, she reveals the ancient rhythm that beats at the heart of every enduring human story—the transformation of pain into purpose, and of despair into hope. She does not glorify suffering, but she honors it, for in it she sees the hidden forge where courage is born. Her words remind us that meaning does not emerge in times of ease, but in the crucible of hardship, where the soul must decide whether to break or to shine.

The origin of this quote lies in Sepetys’ own calling as a writer of historical fiction, whose works such as Between Shades of Gray and Salt to the Sea illuminate the dark corners of human history—wars, exiles, atrocities—and yet fill them with the quiet, indomitable light of the human spirit. Born to a Lithuanian father who fled oppression, she grew up hearing the whispered stories of those who had endured tyranny and exile. Her fascination with the resilience of ordinary people shaped her philosophy: that suffering, though cruel, often reveals the deepest truth of who we are. It is not the darkness itself she adores, but the light that struggles, however faintly, to rise within it.

The ancients, too, spoke this wisdom. Homer sang of Odysseus, who found not only his home but his soul through trial and wandering. Aeschylus, the father of tragedy, wrote that “through suffering comes wisdom.” And centuries later, Viktor Frankl, imprisoned in the death camps of the Second World War, echoed the same truth in his book Man’s Search for Meaning: “Those who have a ‘why’ to live can bear almost any ‘how.’” In every age, the wise have understood that hope is not a fragile wish—it is the defiant flame that refuses to die even when surrounded by darkness. It is the force by which humanity survives its greatest trials.

Sepetys’s love for these themes of hope and courage is not mere sentiment; it is an act of remembrance. Through her storytelling, she resurrects the spirits of those history tried to erase—children, refugees, the broken and forgotten—and shows that even in despair, they clung to fragments of beauty: a song, a letter, a dream of returning home. These small acts of endurance are themselves acts of rebellion. They prove that meaning can be found not by escaping suffering, but by transforming it. Courage, in her view, is not the absence of fear—it is the choice to keep moving, to keep loving, even when the world offers no reason to do so.

Consider the story of Anne Frank, whose name, like a flame in the dark, has become a symbol of this truth. Hidden in a cramped attic during the Holocaust, she endured hunger, fear, and the constant threat of discovery. Yet in her diary, she wrote, “I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.” In those words lives the same spirit that Sepetys adores—the eternal belief that even in the pit of suffering, the human heart can rise above hatred and despair. Anne did not survive the war, but her hope did, and it continues to inspire millions. Her suffering became her legacy; her courage became her immortality.

Suffering, then, is not the enemy—it is the teacher. It strips away illusion and pride, revealing what lies within. When one meets it with hope, it purifies; when one meets it with courage, it transforms. As Sepetys suggests, meaning is not found in avoiding pain, but in enduring it with purpose. The soul that has suffered and survived carries a wisdom that cannot be learned in comfort. This is why her works, though set in grim times, are filled with radiance—they remind us that no darkness is so complete that it can extinguish the human will to live, love, and remember.

The lesson, then, is clear: do not flee from the storms of life, for they are the trials through which meaning is born. When sorrow comes, do not ask, “Why me?” but “What can I learn? What light can I bring from this night?” Let hope be your compass and courage your staff. For as Ruta Sepetys teaches, every soul that endures with love becomes a torch for those who follow. The world does not need those who have never suffered—it needs those who have suffered and yet still choose to believe.

So remember, dear listener: the measure of a life is not in its ease, but in its resilience. Seek always the thread of meaning in your pain, for it is there that you will find your strength. And when you rise—scarred, yes, but shining—know that you, too, have become part of the great chorus of humanity that sings through every age: that hope endures, that courage prevails, and that even in suffering, the soul can discover its reason to be.