I remember when I was a little girl, begging my mother for bedtime stories – insistent I couldn’t sleep without it.

No matter the hour, she’s sidle up next to me – encouraging the faith of a young heart to grow. In those days, life was measured through moments together – and happiness, through the sharing of giggles.

With each new page, the story would unfold; fear would feed a growing evil, though never unchecked where the love was true.

Was it imagination or belief that quelled the restless mind? I’d like to think the latter…a resilience born through countless tests and strength of human spirit.

Through simplicity of tale, we’d find our place – an integrity of truth and the power of connection.

We are so much more than these pages might tell; we are our heart, we are our mind – we are the legacy left behind.

This is the blessing and gift of our story.

In peace, my loves…

Namaste ❤️