A Little Spark of Something Special I remember years ago, my grandmother, bless her cotton socks, always had a little something for luck tucked away in her purse. Not a big, flashy thing, mind you, but a tiny, smooth pebble she'd picked up from a beach holiday in Hastings, or a four-leaf clover pressed so thin it was almost invisible. She truly believed these little talismans offered a sprinkle of good fortune, a gentle nudge from the universe when things felt a bit wobbly. There's just something so comforting about carrying a small symbol of hope, isn't there? It’s a quiet promise to yourself...
