Things We Forget

I found forgiveness for someone who never asked for it. And that’s something I’ll always keep.

I found a crystal on a hiking trail. The light hit it just right, and I decided it was the earth’s way of saying, “Here’s a little magic.”

The coolest thing I’ve ever found was a penny from the year I was born. It felt like a tiny coin of destiny.

I found a note tucked in a library book that said, “You’ll get through this.” I kept it—and it got me through a lot.

I found an abandoned bird’s nest after a storm. It reminded me that even when things fall apart, rebuilding is possible.

I once found a tiny key in a parking lot. I still wonder what door it opens. I keep it on my keychain as a symbol of mystery.

I found my voice after years of silence. And that’s something I’ll never lose again.

The coolest thing I’ve ever found is a letter I wrote to myself as a teenager. I kept it to see how far I’ve come.

I found a stray feather in the middle of the road. I took it as a symbol of resilience—because fallen things can be beautiful.

I found an old concert ticket stub that reminded me I used to dance without fear of being seen. I want that version of me back.