As a kid, I despised Hannah—the one from the Bible, that is. I could not understand her weepings and disliked this legacy she had passed to me in the form of her name. My namesake, in my arrogant little mind, was almost a crybaby, and thus I missed all the important parts—her faith, her insight, and her beautiful prayer of thanksgiving.
Per the usual, the camera slowly clicks on. The videographer smiles as she sees the familiar object light up. She holds the camera up to her eyes, squints, and looks through the frame. Standing directly in front of her is Hannah Pola, a smiling girl with beautiful red hair. Videographer: […]