After my mom was killed, I was completely unprepared for the depth and weight and darkness of grief. I had no idea pain could reach so far inside and not leave. Until then, I had only lost family members who had lived long, full lives; grandparents in their nineties. This was different. It was sudden, preventable, unfair, and all-consuming.
In those early days, I was just trying to hold it together. And then, a co-worker reached out. She had lost her mom unexpectedly too, and somehow, she seemed… okay. Not that she wasn’t still grieving, but she was functioning, laughing, even successful. She didn’t try to fix anything—she simply sat with me. Sometimes we’d go for coffee or a quiet lunch, and talk, or just be. Her presence, her understanding, was like a soft light in a dark room.
That’s what inspired Candle of Encouragement—a painting about those flickers of hope we pass to one another, often without realizing how powerful they are. It’s a reminder that even in our hardest seasons, healing is possible. We don’t have to have all the answers. Sometimes, we just have to show up.
As the Buddha said, “Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.”
So, if you know someone walking through something heavy, be their candle. Be their light. Even the smallest flame can remind someone the dark won’t last forever.
