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In the marketplace of worries
she bargains for hope.
In rooms heavy with doubt
she opens a window.
She carries stories in the lines of her palms,
lessons in the rhythm of her walk,
futures tucked carefully
into the folds of her prayers.

She is the keeper of small mercies—
a pot that stretches to feed one more child,
a chair pulled closer to listen,
a hand pressed firm on a trembling shoulder.
Her voice is not always loud,
but it is steady—
and steadiness can hold up a sky.

We honour the women in our lives who have changed the way we see ourselves in this world.