The Whispered Wisdom of Protection: Our Evil Eye Story Remember those lazy Sunday afternoons at Gran's house, the ones where the smell of baking bread hung in the air and her stories were as comforting as her big, warm hugs? She had this knack for making you feel completely safe, as if her love was a shield, keeping all the little worries of the world at bay. It was a proper, old-fashioned sort of comfort, the kind that felt a bit magical, you know? She’d often tell me that some things, even tiny little trinkets, could carry a whole heap of good intentions and protection, almost like a whispered prayer made real. Thinking about those moments,...
