She Comes to Give: The Quiet Power of Showing Up

You hear the door creak open. She’s here.

No grand announcement. No fanfare. Just a quiet presence. But make no mistake—she comes to give.

Not the kind of giving wrapped in shiny paper or punctuated by applause. No, her gift is subtler. It’s the cup of coffee slid across the table when you didn’t even realize you needed it. It’s the text that pops up at just the right moment. It’s the listening ear, the steady hand, the silent understanding when words fall short.

She doesn’t give because she has to. She gives because that’s who she is. It’s in the way she remembers the little things—your favorite song, how you take your tea, that story you told once and thought she’d forgotten. Spoiler: she didn’t.

Her giving isn’t loud, but it’s felt. Deeply.

When the world gets noisy and everyone’s shouting to be seen, she’s in the background, stitching things together. Holding space. Filling gaps no one else notices. Her currency? Time. Attention. Care.

And here’s the thing—you don’t always see it right away. But when you do, you realize: her giving is the glue. The quiet anchor in the chaos. The light left on in the dark.

So, the next time she shows up—whether it’s with a laugh, a hand on your shoulder, or just her steady presence—pause. Recognize the gift. Because when she comes to give, it’s not just about what she brings. It’s about who she is.

And that? That’s priceless.