If you’ve listened to my podcast, the episode titled "in the beginning then you know that this year I lost my grandmother, my Oma. At the very time I recorded that podcast, I lost this photo. I was looking for it because I wanted to use it in the podcast. I had also just spent the days before sorting through files that resulted in 2 garbage bags filled with papers. When the photo went missing, I looked everywhere even the garbage bags, sorting and re-sorting. It was nowhere to be found. I desperately hoped I had put it somewhere "safe" and just couldn’t remember where that place was (as often happens). Weeks later, I began to wonder if maybe it did end up in the trash. This photo was part of my Oma’s personal belongings. It was one she kept all these years and my mom brought it back to me from Germany. It is not one that I had There was no way to get another copy of it. I felt so sad, as this particular photo represents such a beautiful memory for me and when someone you love is gone what you have left especially the photos of you together mean so much. They feel irreplaceable. I held hope all this time that the photo would return to me and yesterday it did. It simply fell out of one of my design books that Sean randomly picked up. How it got there, I’m still not sure, as that is not quite the "safest" place I would choose to tuck it away. I wanted to share this with you, as this is at least the one time of year when we take time to notice the small miracles. So this is a reminder that they do happen, a reminder never to give up hope.