I believe in THINGS.

I firmly believe in things…

and that those things hold the love and essence of the person of that particular thing.

For instance, I have a silver butter knife that had been the possession of my Grandma Birdie’s. She would use this long, graceful knife with its delicate curves to ice the many cakes she was commissioned to do for weddings.

Every time I use that knife, I smile and my insides tingle. I turn it in my hand and feel a surge of love and protection. Some of you may be thinking ‘Duh, you are holding a knife’ - I assure you, this knife is all softness and will not serve me well in a fight.

This lovely, iridescent, blue glass came from a man that was clearing out the ‘extras’ from his stained glass collection and could not take along with him as he moved faraway to reside with his daughter. The love of his life had recently passed on, his grief was palatable. I stood in the glass studio they had built together, transforming an old shed into place of magic and felt the awe of their fierce companionship.

We must have chatted for an hour. I heard about how their little glass studio came to be and the path that led them to Lethbridge. I learned about wolves, life on the rural Western coast of Canada, and how his cat would bring friends home to be fed. His cat was a big jolly fellow that kept its distance until it promptly came to rest right on top of my daughters feet.

The walls were mostly bare with the task of moving and only a couple of projects remained - one was a startlingly beautiful, 3D mosaic of a bear that must of stood 2’ high. The air was heavy with years of tenderness and contentment. It radiated from every surface and settled like the cosiest blanket, making the space feel warm despite its depleted bones.

My dearest hope is that every bit of glass I bought that day carries that tenderness with it. As it is cut and fashioned it into new things, the combination of my love will emulsify with that tenderness and it will become a talisman for others to revel in… and feel the tingles of the thing.

These sun catchers are gifts for some of my dearest people this holiday season. The friends that transform everyday light into cascades of glittering rainbows.