My Story: I bloomed in England, where cornflower blue petals and golden wheat danced across my porcelain surface. I was made to bring joy, to hold warmth, to sit gracefully at sunlit tables. When my time there faded, I traveled across the sea to Canada, ready to begin again. Now, I cradle a gentle flame instead of tea—still warm, still graceful. My flowers haven’t wilted, and neither has my purpose. I was made to brighten the day—and now I glow through the night.