A Sunday memory with Karma.Corbett

As a child, my heart danced with joy at the mere mention of Mary Poppins. The anticipation it sparked within me mirrored the electric excitement of Sundays, those sacred pockets of time when the world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of something wonderful.

In the tapestry of everyday life, it's the seemingly insignificant moments that stitch together the fabric of happiness. Like the first heavenly bite of freshly fried french fries at the corner burger joint, or the impromptu decision by my mum to turn an ordinary Sunday into a cake-baking. These are the moments that give you the joy, that infuse life with a kind of magic akin to Mary Poppins herself.

In the theatre of my mind, memories flicker like old-fashioned slides, each one a snapshot of joy, each with its own unique flavour. And even in the act of reminiscing, they retain their boldness, their timelessness, their nostalgic charm.

Every layer on the dress, every photograph in our memories, speaks volumes about the depth of a person's soul, about the richness of their experiences. And in the continuation of this cycle of encounters, of shared moments, we have the power to weave a legacy of gentle beauty for generations to come.

One of my wish is to sprinkle even more beauty into the world, to add another layer to the already sumptuous feast of life.