In sharing the Feeding Pickle story, I have left out a lot of the pieces of our struggles, of our pain, of the ick. I left it out because it's not what we all like to talk about, take the time to listen to, or even want to dwell on. And, you know what?
{Feeding Pickle Ltd is tied deeply into our family story--our passions, our hopes, and some neat things coming up in our near future that I am so excited to reveal, both on a personal and business product level. This is part 5 of the story...)
Acknowledging the ick is ok. We do need to focus on what is true and beautiful. But there is also a time and a place to acknowledge that hard times are...hard. Often downright poopy. Yeah. I said it. We are only human, and we do need help. Talking about it really is ok. Acknowledging the tough and rough is the first step toward the solution.
It was during this next phase of our story, where the job that we had moved back for left us high and dry from one day to the next, the house we needed to sell on the market completely drained our savings, we were left feeling immensely lonely, and I was six months pregnant with the littlest gherkin blessing that the Feeding Pickle Ltd official business was born.
Not the most glorious start, huh? But good things can rise from what was originally quite ugly.
We had been through some life-altering circumstances and had heard some truly horrid and hateful things. I became keenly aware that of all the words spoken or thought in a day, intentional kind words seemed to be in the minority. I realized it was just a matter of choice to see this change. It was something I wanted to get better at.
A letter written for no other reason than to let someone know they were remembered; speaking encouragement into hearts during dark times; celebrating victories; hearing and waiting through the pain; acknowledging that above all and beyond all that may be going on around or being said about them--The reminder that each one of us is distinctly loved is message that will never grow old. We don't have to wait to speak kindness until the world crumbles around us and puddles at our feet. We can be proactive with kindness.
{I do not have the answers of how exactly to always go about this, how to always find the best words, the best plan of action. I've made mistakes; I've put my foot in my mouth. I've stumbled on my words, struggled even to find any, and sometimes learned that just a heartfelt smile was best anyhow. But as the recipient of kindness, and of a Comfort that holds my heart safely for eternity, I'll keep trying. Someone's heart is worth it. Someone took that risk of loving on me, on our family. The biggest key to encouragement: it's not about me at all. It's about them.}
Fabric postcards are my heart to see the spread of intentional, genuine kindness. They are unexpected. They are cheery. They are soft to reach hearts by means of yet another tactile sense.
They can be stuffed in a pocket to encourage all day. Tucked in a purse. They could quietly wait in a lunchbox. Be mailed across time and miles. Cushion a gift with a candle. Used over and over as a mug rug.
Fabric postcards were my way of saying: words do make a difference--choose them well and then spread them freely.
And yes, there is a Part 6 next.
Always be creative,
Marie Winfield