Each morning
before the world begins its noise,
I come to this quiet corner.
Behind clear glass
a small grey rabbit keeps watch—
soft, patient,
like it understands the meaning of waiting.
Around its neck
rests your St Christopher,
the guardian of travellers,
the keeper of long roads and safe returns.
You’re not lost.
You’re not gone.
You’re simply walking
a path that bends away from me
for now.
Your picture sits beside him,
eyes bright with that fearless little smile—
the smile that reminds me
why I refuse to give up.
Because mothers are strange creatures.
We can be broken
and still stand.
Burned by the world
and still carry fire.
Maybe that’s why
they call me Phoenix.
And every day
I leave this small promise here:
A rabbit to hold your place.
A saint to guard your journey.
A picture to keep your light in this home.
Not because you’re gone—
but because one day
your footsteps will find their way
back through this door.
And when they do,
the rabbit will no longer need to wait,
St Christopher will return to your chest,
and the space I’ve kept for you
will finally be filled
by the sound of my little warrior
coming home.
Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 4:10 PM UTC
Each morning
before the world begins its noise,
I come to this quiet corner.
Behind clear glass
a small grey rabbit keeps watch—
soft, patient,
like it understands the meaning of waiting.
Around its neck
rests your St Christopher,
the guardian of travellers,
the keeper of long roads and safe returns.
You’re not lost.
You’re not gone.
You’re simply walking
a path that bends away from me
for now.
Your picture sits beside him,
eyes bright with that fearless little smile—
the smile that reminds me
why I refuse to give up.
Because mothers are strange creatures.
We can be broken
and still stand.
Burned by the world
and still carry fire.
Maybe that’s why
they call me Phoenix.
And every day
I leave this small promise here:
A rabbit to hold your place.
A saint to guard your journey.
A picture to keep your light in this home.
Not because you’re gone—
but because one day
your footsteps will find their way
back through this door.
And when they do,
the rabbit will no longer need to wait,
St Christopher will return to your chest,
and the space I’ve kept for you
will finally be filled
by the sound of my little warrior
coming home.
This little corner is where I keep a piece of my heart close. The grey rabbit wears my warrior’s St Christopher whilst we wait until he’s where he belongs each morning and night I see it and remember: love doesn’t disappear with distance. Some spaces are simply kept warm until little footsteps return. And the will soon enough ❤️
