A Gift.

Beside my bed lies a long, white windowsill. A windowsill which for ten months laid bare and empty, just begging to be filled. A windowsill which, for those same ten months, served as a constant reminder of just how far I still had yet to go in truly making this space of mine exactly that-- mine. But these things take time, and I knew that a home was not created simply by one's living in it. But as of last week, I got one step closer. For through a serendipitous turn of events, that long, lonely windowsill became home to an incredibly beautiful collection of books-- a gift bestowed upon me through the thoughtfulness of dear, dear friend. A gift that was given simply because.

And while I could go on for pages pouring over the details of those beautiful covers and bindings laced with gold thread, what I love most about this gift is the significance embedded within-- that special reminder of a dear friend who, despite having roots all the way in St. Louis, has woven a piece of her heart into my life here in Brooklyn and found a way onto that windowsill in a way that a simple picture or card couldn't possibly compare.

And so, with that-- many thanks to you, Miss Cait! Beyond this sweet gift, your kind heart means more than you'll ever know.
xo