You have a gift. Your job is to share it.

Your gift was born the day you took your first breath.

Others may recognize it in you, before you begin to honor it.

Yet, you know when your gift tapped your shoulder.

It nudged you into the light. You saw further. You felt free.

You have a gift. Your job is to share it.

The day she was born you naturally started looking for it.

When his smile touched your soul, his gift smiled too.

Help find the place where her gift can stretch out.

Be a wall and his gift will wither in the shade. Celebrate it instead.

You have a gift. Your job is to share it.

In the world of gifts, the word “should” has no place.

The most venomous word to your gift is “can’t.”

Your gift never goes away. It may collect cobwebs.

It may calcify or rust. But it never dies. Ever.

You have a gift. Your job is to share it.

Your gift never arrives. It’s forever setting out, seeking, blooming, curious, magnetic.

When it can’t breathe, it waits. When it can’t see, it calls out.

If you knew how long you had left to live, your gift would greet you every morning.

When you forget you’re mortal, your gift hides under the covers with you.

You have a gift. Your job is to share it.