Capturing Love in Color

Evelyn had once been known as "the woman who painted light." Her canvases glowed

with color, warmth, and hope. Art collectors adored her.

Students lined up for her classes. But now, at seventy-eight, her hands trembled

too much to hold a brush steady. Since her husband, Samuel, passed away,

the paints had dried in their jars. The easel in the sunroom gathered dust.

And the room that once smelled of turpentine and roses felt hollow. One morning,

Evelyn walked into the sunroom and opened the curtains. Light spilled across the forgotten canvas

waiting on the easel, the one she had abandoned the night Samuel died. She whispered,