Gemotions

The afternoon light cast long shadows in the spare room. Olivia found the box tucked away under the bed. Her mother, notoriously organized, had meticulously labeled it: “Olivia’s School Days.” A sense of anticipation, and something else, filled her.

She pulled out a story she had written, illustrated with crayon drawings of a princess and a dragon. The pages were dog-eared, the colors faded. But Olivia remembered the story, the characters, the feeling of creating something.

Olivia noticed the small notes her mother had made on the side, encouraging her to improve her spelling, telling her how good the story was. She felt the impact of her mother's care. It was a tangible record of her belief in her. She pressed the pages to her chest.