I was a quiet, introverted girl who sat alone during breaks, watching the wind rustle the tall leaves outside. But that first time I stood up to speak—and they clapped—it changed something in me. What began as performance became real. And that moment of kindness let me grow.

After losing everything: from his grandfather to his family, his home, and nearly his life; Akron faced a truth too heavy to carry alone. But when his son was taken from him, he found the strength to rise. This is a story of falling hard… and choosing to return. Not perfect. But present. Read Akron’s story in the Grove.

In Essence Grove™, stories are more than memories; they are lanterns. Stories of The Grove™ invites you into a quiet space where real people share what they’ve lived through, lost, and found again. It’s not about being first. It’s about being real, and remembering that we’re never as alone as we think.

I never took a “bad” path; I just worked hard until my body couldn’t anymore. Illness changed me. So did the silence, the fear, and the fight to be taken seriously. I don’t hide that I’ve been hurt. I write to process, to reach other women who may be walking their own hard path. I’m not perfect, I’m present. This is what survival looks like for me. And I’m still growing.

They do not compete.
They do not compare.
Each Rose Vireya blooms in her own way.
And together, they make the Grove whole.

Today, the Grove bloomed in harmony.

The Yellow Rose Vireya twirled joy through the trees. The Pink Rose Vireya offered quiet compassion. Together, they found me by the pond, tears in my eyes and a turtle in my care. They didn’t try to fix me. They simply stayed; one placing a dandelion crown on my head, the other resting her hand on my shoulder.

“Feelings first,” one whispered. “Fixing later.”

In the stillness of the Grove, the White Rose Vireya blooms—not with noise, but with truth. She teaches us that peace doesn’t mean silence, and that our energy begins to heal when we stop hiding our truth. This is her story—and mine.

In the Grove’s softest hours, two roses awaken.
One blooms heavy with memory; the other, curious about what lies beyond sorrow.

Together, they teach us: grief does not end growth—it nourishes it.

A story of remembrance, tenderness, and the quiet magic of healing.

This week had good roots—bright, blooming, full of promise.

But storms pulled me away from the Grove, from the Wildflowers.

Next week, we pick up the story again.

Because healing isn’t about rushing—it’s about honoring every step, even the ones we have to take twice.

“Lavender Rose reminds me that I don’t have to yell to be heard.
That calm isn’t weakness.
That curiosity and emotional honesty are their own kind of strength.”

In a world that demands we take sides, speak louder, or stay silent, the Grove chooses something different: softness, honesty, and room to grow. This diary entry explores the arrival of Lavender Rose Vireya—and what it means to bloom in the face of noise.

“The wind doesn’t choose sides. It carries seeds. It brings change. It listens to the earth and moves accordingly. And I thought—what if we could do the same?”

In this journal page from Essence Grove, Aunt C’Anna speaks softly but clearly: truth doesn’t scream. It listens. And maybe, just maybe, healing begins when we stop trying to be right—and start trying to be real.

I used to be terrified of the dark—for reasons I didn’t have words for. I’d wrap myself in blankets, trying to feel safe. Now, I sleep in the dark most nights. But sometimes, I still need a little light. That’s not weakness. That’s healing. And this week, the orange rose reminded me: inspiration often begins with understanding our fear.

This week we introduced our rose theme—and already, the Grove is shifting beneath my feet. What started as a day trip with my husband and brother became something much deeper: presence, purpose, and the quiet search for a new beginning. We’re not just dreaming about the Grove anymore. We’re looking for the land it can grow on.

“I’m a weird wildflower, blooming at the edge of the woods,
still trying to build a garden.
Still growing.
Still listening.
Still here.

And that?
That’ll never stop.”

After being left to drown—again—I realized something: you can be mad and still show up. This diary entry reflects on anger, boundaries, quiet recovery, and why Essence Grove was never about performance. It was always about presence. Always about healing.

In this tender reflection, C’Anna explores the healing magic of chamomile, the weight of big emotions, and the importance of protecting your energy. Through the Grove’s gentle metaphor of dream pillows, she invites us to show up with honesty, set boundaries without shame, and remember that healing doesn’t have to be loud—it just has to be real.

I used to think I was broken beyond repair. But I wasn’t.
I was just buried beneath silence, spiraling thoughts, and fear dressed up as strength.
This year, I’m fighting like hell to show up—not just for others, but for myself.
Because the safety I once needed... I’m becoming that now.

So who is Aunt C’Anna?

Simply put—she’s the person I needed.

The one I searched for when the world felt too loud, too scary, or too empty.

She’s calm when I’m overwhelmed.

Steady when I spiral.

And safe, even when nothing else feels that way.

She is not perfect. But she is present.

She listens without rushing.

She believes you without question.

She protects without hesitation.

Aunt C’Anna is who I became…

because no one else showed up that way.

And now she’s here, for the wildflowers.

For the ones still waiting to feel safe.

Join Viola Belle in Essence Grove as she shares a magical self-defense lesson from Dragon Gym. Learn how children can trust their instincts and stay safe—online and off.