Letter from the editor
Spring has arrived at last! After months of cold, blustery days, the warmth of the sun on our skin and the sight of tulips and daffodils emerging from the earth feels like a long-awaited reward. There is something about this transition that feels hopeful—an annual reminder that even the harshest winters eventually give way to new beginnings.
This cycle of change is a reassuring constant, a rhythm that keeps life moving forward even when it feels like time is standing still. I remember when my children were young, and we lived near a farm. Each day, as we drove by in our ’90s blue minivan, I would make up stories about what the farmer was doing. The stories weren’t always based on fact—some details were imagined—but they always tied into a lesson about the changing seasons. I wanted them to see how everything in nature has a time and purpose, just as we do. I loved the simplicity and innocence of those early years.
Like the seasons, our children grew up, moving from one phase of life to the next. Each stage of their childhood held its own joys and challenges. Some, like those early years of bedtime stories and wide-eyed wonder, seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Others, especially the turbulent teenage years, felt like they would never end. But no matter how long or short a season seemed, it always changed in its own time.
It’s hard to believe that five years have passed since the start of the pandemic—another “season” that felt like it might never end. It was a time of uncertainty, loss and hardship. Many of us lost loved ones, while others faced financial struggles as businesses closed or were forced to adapt to an uncertain future. Life, as we knew it, was put on hold. And yet, even that challenging chapter eventually came to a close. We found new ways to connect, to rebuild and to move forward. Life, in its ever-reliable way, carried on.
These cycles—both in nature and in life—hold a simple but profound truth: nothing lasts forever. When faced with difficult times, I remind myself that this, too, shall pass. And on those rare, perfect days, when the sun is shining, laughter is abundant, and everything feels right in the world, I make an effort to be fully present. Because those moments, too, are fleeting.
Perhaps that’s why we call this moment the present. It is, after all, a gift—one to be cherished before it changes once again.
Peace & Love,
Cindy
