As this year ends, I find myself thinking less about resolutions and more about

roots.

This has been a year of stories—some joyful, some frightening, some exhausting, and some

still unfolding. It has been a year that reminded me, repeatedly that life does not move

in straight lines. It loops. It bends. It surprises us. And sometimes it brings us right back to

the hearth—the place where stories begin.

This year, Hearthwise Tales grew in ways I couldn’t have predicted. Three children’s books

entered the world, each one carrying imagination, warmth, and a belief that stories still

matter—especially for children growing up in loud, fast times. Watching Ender the Chicken

Tender take his first steps into young readers’ hands has been a gift I don’t take lightly.

But this year also tested us.

There were moments when life demanded steadiness more than creativity. A serious

motorcycle accident. A long recovery. Medical appointments that remind you how fragile

even the strongest people can be. These moments pull you out of planning and promotion

and drops you squarely into the present—where love looks like showing up, holding hands,

and finding humor wherever you can.

I’ve learned this year that endurance doesn’t always look heroic.

Sometimes it looks like patience.

Sometimes it looks like laughter in a waiting room.

Sometimes it looks like putting one foot in front of the other when the future feels uncertain.

Growing up in ranching and mining towns taught me that lesson early, even if I didn’t

recognize it at the time. Love wasn’t always spoken. Strength wasn’t explained. But people

stayed. They worked. They endured. And only later do we understand how much courage

that required.

As I look toward the coming year, I know new stories are waiting—some playful and light

for children, and some deeper, harder, and more personal. Stories about family, resilience,

women’s lives, and the quiet strength that often goes unnoticed. Stories that may come

slowly, imperfectly, and out of order—and that’s okay.

Because home is not a finished place. It’s a living one.

Hearthwise Tales will continue to be a space for stories that honor where we come from,

what we survive, and what we choose to carry forward. For children discovering joy. For

adults reflecting on endurance. For families navigating change. For anyone who believes

that stories help us make sense of the world—and ourselves.

As this year closes, my hope is simple:

That we enter the next year with a little more grace for ourselves, a little more patience for others,

and a willingness to keep telling the truth—gently, bravely, and with heart.

Because no matter how many chapters we’ve lived, the story can still begin again.