The Ring of The Bold Heart

Barra, Western Isles — 1916 — Morning. Catriona MacLeod walked along the wind-battered cliffs, the salt tang of sea spray sharp in her nostrils, waves rolling endlessly below. The silver ring pressed lightly against her finger, engraved with the mark of St John, the apostle known for closeness, care, and listening. It had been given to her by her mother with a quiet instruction: to hold space for others without losing herself, to feel the struggles of those around her but not be carried under by them. She watched fishermen untangle nets and children chase gulls, and felt the ring settle her hand, reminding her that true compassion was presence, not absorption. The light caught the silver, warming it slightly, and Catriona understood that she could care deeply while remaining steady, that the heart could hold kindness without being consumed by the world’s weight.