When I look at 希 (KI, KE, mare: rare, to aspire, hope), I see a pile of lines, as if someone tossed some twigs in the air and captured the pattern in which they landed. I recognize the components—メ, ナ and 巾—but the familiarity fades with the full assembly. Although I was hoping that Henshall’s etymology might help, it doesn’t.
He says 希 was once written in a completely different way. The top (originally two stacked x‘s) meant “interweaving,” and 巾 represented “threads, cloth.” He notes that 希 originally meant “weaving threads” or “embroidery.” Its current meanings have all derived from “borrowings.” (How?!?!?)
From his analysis, I did learn that the bottom two-thirds of the character is another Jōyō kanji: 布 (FU, nuno: cloth, spread). Good to know.
Back to 希, it shares one property with 望 (aside from the meaning of “hope,” that is). The nanori (名乗り: name + ride) of 希 is nozomi. A nanori is an ateji reading reserved for given names. Just yesterday, I came across a Facebook comment by a Nozomi, and she may very well write her name as 希. I hope not; she’s prettier than that disorderly stack of strokes.
For a little more on nanori, see page 82 of Crazy for Kanji and look at the section called “Type 3.”
