The Light We Give: A Candle Maker’s Journey of Healing, Faith & Everyday Gifting
There’s something sacred about lighting a candle: the quiet flicker, the soft scent that fills the room, the way one small flame can turn an ordinary space into a sanctuary.
Long before I ever poured my first candle, I was in love with them. Years ago, I worked for a company called PartyLite, and that’s where I first discovered the art of quality … how fragrance and wax could hold memory and emotion. It was also there that I fell in love with the story of Mabel Baker, the woman whose legacy began it all on the shores of Cape Cod. I was drawn to the purity of her ingredients, her integrity, and her pioneering spirit. Her famous bayberry candles carried not just fragrance, but meaning … a symbol of good fortune and heartfelt tradition.
Those early days planted something in me: an appreciation for craftsmanship and a respect for the stories that live within what we create. The pride I take in my candles today was born in that season, as a young stay-at-home mom, learning, growing, and finding purpose in small acts of making.
When my first husband became terminally ill, everything changed. Clean ingredients became more than a preference; they became a form of care. I wanted to know what was in the air we breathed, the products I used, and what I brought into our home. So, I taught myself how to make candles, not just for beauty, but for peace of mind. Every pour became a quiet prayer, each scent a whisper of healing and hope.
That season also deepened my appreciation for essential oils … how they support the body’s ability to restore balance and harmony. I’m not opposed to medicine, but I do believe that we often reach for quick fixes when our bodies are really asking for rest, nourishment, and stillness. I’ve learned that the body has a remarkable design, one created by God to heal, adapt, and renew when we honor it.
As I began to pour, I had no fancy tools or custom packaging. My first candles were made in small jelly jars, and my first wax melts were poured into an ice tray mold from my kitchen. They weren’t perfect, but they were honest, useful, and made with love. Those early creations taught me something important: simplicity can still carry soul. What mattered most wasn’t the jar or the label; it was the intention behind the light.
Over time, my candle-making evolved from humble beginnings at my kitchen table to what has now become The Silver Bohemian. But at its heart, the mission remains the same: to offer meaningful, mindful gifts that speak love in ordinary moments.
After losing several people I loved, many of them around the holidays, I began to see giving differently. I realized how precious the now really is, and how love shouldn’t have to wait for a special occasion. I no longer wanted to give because the calendar told me to; I wanted to give because my heart did.
So I began to send small tokens of light … a candle for a friend who’d had a hard week, a simple note tucked inside, “I thought of you.” That became my quiet mission: to make thoughtful, handcrafted gifts available not only for myself, but for others who wanted to share love in the same way … just because.
As my wellness practice deepened, my candles found a new rhythm, woven into the rituals of my day.
In the morning, I light one before journaling, a gentle cue to breathe and invite clarity before the day begins.
In the evening, another candle marks the slowing down, softening the edges of the day with peace and gratitude.
In my studio, I light them while I paint, write, or sew. Each flame anchors me in presence as scent mingles with inspiration.
And in client sessions, my candles add another layer of comfort, transforming the room into a sanctuary of calm, where the body and spirit can rest, release, and restore.
Light became both my creative language and my healing one, an alchemy that connects craft, care, and spirit in every space I enter.
Every time I make a batch of candles, I think of the love I’m sending out … the people who will receive them, the warmth they’ll bring, and the reason I began making them in the first place. Each candle carries that same intention: that whoever lights it will feel loved, remembered, and wrapped in peace.
Each candle I make is more than wax and wick. It’s a vessel of memory and message.
Some are poured with peace in mind. Others with comfort, joy, or clarity. Each one carries intention: a reflection of how even in dark seasons, light still finds a way to shine through.
I suppose that’s the real alchemy of this work … not just transforming raw ingredients into fragrance and flame, but transforming moments into meaning.
What began as a spark, a young woman inspired by Mabel Baker’s story and her own love of candles, has grown into something far deeper. From those first jelly jars on my kitchen counter to the curated gift sets I pour today, every candle still begins with the same heart: a love for craft, a reverence for light, and a desire to share it.
A Thought to Carry
When we give light, whether it’s a candle, a word, or a small act of kindness, we’re participating in something sacred. We’re reminding one another that love doesn’t wait for a reason. It simply moves when it feels called.
“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.”
— James 1:17 (NKJV)
“Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud.” — Maya Angelou