It is well known that a scent can trigger a precious memory or even transport you to a moment in time. It has even been said that a scent is the closest humans will come to a time machine. But as I discovered a year ago when our family stumbled into a farmer’s market on a dreary and cold day in England.

 It can evoke such deep emotion that you’ll cry in front of a perfect stranger, and perhaps reveal a piece of yourself that you didn’t know what missing. 

 

 When I first picked up, smelled, and sobbed at this candle, I thought perhaps it was triggering a memory, but I searched every corners of my mind to no avail, I chalked it up to a lost, but obviously lovely memory.

Obviously, I bought the candle, collected my kiddos who were sampling vegan chocolate at the next stall, and we went on our way. 

When I got home a week later, plays a few days. (Jet lag is no joke) I unpacked my bag, pulled out my little candle and lit it up once again.

 I felt a pull in my heart once again, but once again, nothing came to mind. 

 So it went, for months until I was out of ideas of what I could have forgotten and the candle had nothing left to give me.

 

The year went on, as did I, but not as usual. I started to put in the work to really get to know me- something I’d never quite been so brave to do, then a few months ago, I was journaling in the early hours of the morning- and as if a spark inside myself was lit in an instant, It was as if I meeting myself truly for the first time. I was overwhelmed with emotion. 

 

That same day, all I could think about was the scent of that candle and all the moments I couldn’t put my finger on… But here it was, obvious and bright shining in the dark like the flame of that candle itself. 

As I thought back to that moment I had written off on that cold England day, I realized that the thing I couldn’t put my finger on was Chelsea – a Chelsea I didn’t know existed. And like the scent of that Nowruz candle – she (me)  was there all along, bold beautiful and just waiting to be lit up. 

I knew I had to reach out to that lovely candle Maker. 

 I figured she wouldn’t remember me, I mean, why would she? She meets hundreds of people a day, but much to my surprise, she not only remembered me, but remembered that moment we had fondly, that her art had such a profound effect on someone. 

After some sweet conversations, we worked it out to get some candles sent over to me.

Each day I excitedly checked the mail for my order. Then all at once, as if by magic, it appeared. 

Covered in twine and dried flowers, wrapped in love. 

 Before I could even open the box, the scent I couldn’t place for so long found me all over again.