The coming came from a quiet whisper, a longing of the heart.

The desire to raise girls connected to a place, pieces of memory to carry them through life.

The same had been given to me, a beach house in North Carolina became an island off the South Georgia Coast I could gift to them.

First coming with a baby in diapers and continuing to come after a broken marriage threatened to break us.

As one could expect this place calmed the storm, healing was found on her shores.

The smell of cinnamon rolls and the 8am crew sitting watch in the corner rounds at Sweet Mama’s will forever line their senses.

The sunrise cups of coffee, East beach walks at sunset, the dogs on the shore line, the days spent lingering in stores, the laughing over plates of saltwater morsels, the masses at St. William, these will be what carries them through the hard days.

Sidney, who first came at six years, now looks back on ten years gone and finds the place has woven itself into the soul.

As independence sits at her doorstep this momma can’t help but be grateful for the gift of a place.

This Christmas I will bask in the joy of sitting with the salt at her feet and knowing that roots have given her wings.