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The Door That Always Stayed Open | Chapter One
No one quite remembered who first called it The Cozy Makers Club. It just… fit.
The door to the craftroom was never locked. In fact, it seemed to open a little wider every time someone new arrived — whether she came from Texas, Toronto, Melbourne, Manchester, or a quiet village somewhere no one else had heard of. Geography didn’t matter here. What mattered was that everyone walked in carrying something: a project, a hope, sometimes a doubt they hadn’t said out loud yet.
Inside, the room always felt gently alive. Soft lamp light. The hum of conversation. Fabric spilling from baskets, yarn tucked into bowls, beads glinting in little dishes. Someone always had tea brewing. Someone always had encouragement ready.
There was 'Restart Maria', rediscovering her creativity after retirement. 'Healing Keisha', stitching courage back together after a hard year. 'Unsure Anika', learning that her art deserved space in the world. 'Shy Little Jules', who said little at first but laughed the loudest now. And dozens more — different ages, backgrounds, accents, styles — yet somehow immediately familiar.
No one had to explain why they needed this place. Everyone understood.
Here, mistakes became experiments. Quiet people found their voice. Beginners became mentors without even noticing. And confidence grew the way handmade things do — slowly, intentionally, beautifully imperfect.
It wasn’t just crafting.
It was sisterhood stitched across oceans. It was permission to rest, to try, to shine. It was the rare feeling of being both accepted exactly as you are and encouraged to become even more yourself.
Sometimes someone would pause mid-project, look around at the laughter, the focus, the gentle support, and say softly:
“I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”
The others always smiled. They knew.
Because the Cozy Makers Club wasn’t just a craftroom.
It was a safe harbor—a confidence workshop. A global circle of creativity and kindness — where the door stayed open, the lights stayed warm, and there was always room at the table for one more maker.
Thank you for being here,
Lynda
PS: Print this and keep it in a safe place to remind you that you are not alone. Add it to your notebook/planner or desk drawer. And look for the next chapter of our story in the days ahead.
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The Door That Always Stayed Open | Chapter One
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