My Story: I was crafted in England, where soft pink roses were painted across me like whispers of affection. My golden base gleamed through countless teatimes, catching sunlight and secrets in equal measure. Years passed, and I longed for more. One day, I journeyed to Canada, not as a keepsake, but as a vessel for new warmth. Now, a candle flickers where tea once swirled. I still carry grace, but now I give off a glow of quiet comfort—my petals blushing in candlelight.