No longer the girl sold for three silver coins.
No longer someone’s “stock.”
She was unclaimed.
Free.
And loved without price.
Inside, the fire burned bright.
This time, it wasn’t borrowed warmth.
It was home.
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No longer the girl sold for three silver coins.
No longer someone’s “stock.”
She was unclaimed.
Free.
And loved without price.
Inside, the fire burned bright.
This time, it wasn’t borrowed warmth.
It was home.
Are you having trouble climbing stairs, grocery shopping, or gardening as much as you used to? It’s not necessarily about age… What if it’s…