There once lived a woman named Lopa, who walked the world with quiet wonder in her eyes and a question always blooming in her heart. Her presence was soft yet steady, like the hush of dawn before sunlight spills across the land.

Though she lived among people, Lopa often felt like she belonged to another realm, one woven with threads of stars, whispers of trees, and ancient, unseen love. And deep within her, she carried a sense of being watched over. Not in fear, but in trust.

She couldn’t always explain it, but in her quietest moments, when she closed her eyes and listened, she felt the warmth of an unseen presence, strong, protective, and tender. Her orange guardian, she called him. He had piercing eyes she had seen once in a dream, eyes that saw through all her masks, into the truth of who she was.

With him watching, the world became a place of wonder, not fear.

Even the hardest days began to feel like a game written just for her.

When storms came, she didn’t cower.
Instead, she tilted her head and asked, “Why did I choose this challenge?”
“What gift is hidden here?”
“What is this pain trying to teach me?”

Each question she asked opened a door inside her. Behind every fear, she found strength. Behind every obstacle, an awakening. Her life became a garden, and she the loving gardener, tending to the flowers of experience, pruning back falsehood, watering truth with her responses.

She realised something magical:
When you are rooted in love, even the largest forces treat you gently.

And from that moment on, she danced through her days like wind through meadows.

People wondered what her secret was.
How did she glow like that?
How did she make life look like a sacred game?

But Lopa knew the truth.

She was simply loved.
She was simply watched over.
She was simply free.