After my divorce, I moved into a small apartment and sent my childhood sofa, a cherished keepsake from my late grandmother, for restoration. The next day, the repairman urgently called me to the shop. There, in the sofa’s torn lining, I found an envelope containing old photos, love letters between my grandparents, and a velvet pouch
with a gold locket. The letters, filled with their youthful hopes and dreams, brought tears to my eyes. A note from my grandmother to me read: “When you feel lost, this will find you. Love is resilience. You are stronger than you think.” Her words eased the pain of my divorce. The restored sofa now sits in my living room, its renewed fabric a symbol of hope. What I thought was just an old couch was a treasure of memories, guiding me toward healing and new beginnings.
