Apples of Gold

Ink from Pain

I recently joined a writing group that meets at a local church — something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. It’s become one of my favourite outings now, this gathering of minds and hearts, of stories and pens. There’s something grounding about sitting in a quiet room with others who feel compelled to…

Skip with me, nanna!

We were just walking, hand in hand, the way grandmothers and little granddaughters do. The day was mild, the sky wide and blue, and her tiny fingers wrapped around mine with the kind of trust that softens your soul. “Nanna,” she said, looking up with a grin that could melt clouds, “Would you like to…

The Day I Trembled

I stood at the gates of eternity. Not metaphorically. Not in some dreamy, poetic sense. I stood there — suspended between breath and no breath, between the beating heart and silence. Between earth… and heaven. The cord of life has always been fragile — delicate as silk, invisible as breath. Mine thinned to almost nothing….

We Call on Him

For a number of years, Peter and I shared a quiet ritual with our dear friends, Stephen and his late wife Wendy. We each brought a song — something that spoke to us in that season of life — and took turns playing them, sitting together in conversation, letting the lyrics lead us to places…

To my grandson

You made me a nanna —from the very first moment your dad placed you gently in my arms,just a minute old, soft and new,you stole my heart completely.And you’ve held it ever since. You, my little ray of sunshine,with that huge smile that stretches all the way to your shining blue eyes.Eyes that sparkle with…

Storyteller

My phone flashes the warning again: Storage almost full. Again. I take a lot of photos. Not for an audience. Not to curate a flawless life. I take them to gather crumbs — breadcrumbs scattered through the forest of my days. Each image a small, shining proof that I noticed. That I felt. That I…

Miss You Most

When the lilacs begin to bloom and the forest floor turns into a sea of white lily of the valley, that is when I miss you most of all. The air grows heavy with perfume, drifting through my memories like mist through birch trees — soft and persistent, quietly calling me back. When your nights…

Life is Precious

Every single day we wake up is a gift —wrapped not in paper, but in possibility. We often move through our days as if they are endless,as if time owes us more,as if we can press pause on what truly matters. But deep down, we know the truth:each sunrise is a miracle,each moment a fleeting…

The Strength of a Bridge

Some days it rests quietly within me. Other days it rises gently to the surface — not asking for attention, simply asking to be acknowledged. I was eleven when I stepped off a plane into Australia. The sky felt impossibly wide. The light sharper. The language fast and unfamiliar. I sensed very quickly that survival…

All I Wanted

When I was a little girl and someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I never hesitated. I didn’t dream of empires or impressive careers. I simply said, “a mum.” That was all I ever wanted. Not just in name, but in the deepest, most wholehearted way. To love. To…