• The Beaded Cross of Strength

    Some gifts are given not for birthdays or celebrations, but for the moments when words feel too thin to carry what the heart wants to say. This cross was made for Roger — a friend walking through a season of uncertainty, where faith becomes both anchor and light. The beads were chosen for their warmth, each one carrying a sun-baked pattern like grains of earth. Threaded together into the shape of a cross, they became more than beads: a symbol of resilience, of steady ground beneath trembling feet. Hung on a leather cord, it is simple, sturdy, and humble — a piece meant not to dazzle, but to strengthen. To…

  • The Heart of Stone & Sea

    Some gifts aren’t bought, they’re found. This heart began as a stone half-buried in the sand, washed smooth by tides and time. On an ordinary beach walk, it caught the eye — a pale piece of quartz, shaped already by the sea into something almost whole. Carved and polished by hand, the stone slowly became what it had always hinted at being: a heart. Its veins of gold and white gleamed brighter with each pass of the cloth, each hour of quiet work. What began as something pulled from the earth became a symbol, shaped not only by waves but by love. Wrapped in silver and hung from a chain,…

  • The Mushroom Pendant

    Some gifts grow from imagination, others from the earth itself. This pendant was both. The stone was found on the beach, ordinary at first glance, until it revealed the potential to become something whimsical. Hand-carved and polished, it took shape as a mushroom — a symbol of hidden worlds, quiet strength, and the magic that thrives in unexpected places. Wrapped in silver and adorned with a charm, it became a pendant for Liz, my sister-in-law. For her, it carries both the grounding weight of stone and the playful spirit of nature’s design. Mushrooms remind us that beauty often grows in the overlooked corners — in shade, in silence, in places…