Promise Against the Wind — A Mother’s Story of Trust, Courage & Puffins

December 8, 2025

When the wind pushes — and you stay standing anyway

The story of a painting about finding the strength to be the shield, even when you were the one meant to be protected.

On the cliffs of Iceland, the wind never asks if we’re ready.
It simply arrives.
Sometimes as a whisper.
Sometimes as a force that steals the breath from your lungs.

Two puffins stand close,
one looking toward the horizon,
the other looking at him —
a silent promise:
“As long as we are two, we will not fall.”

Here, at the edge of the world, promises aren’t spoken.
They live in the eyes.
Or they don’t exist at all.

In that moment, I understood that trust isn’t a romantic accessory.
It is a foundation of life —
in nature and among humans.

But in real life, some stories shift.
Sometimes the shield is missing.
And you learn that you must become the shield yourself.

I painted this piece when I found myself alone with a small child in a foreign land.
No familiar faces,
no “I’m coming if you need me.”
Just me, the northern wind —
and a pair of little eyes
that needed me strong
even when I was breaking inside.

I had to stand firmly for both of us —
so he would have someone to trust,
someone to curl into
when the wind screamed outside.

He couldn’t protect me —
he was tiny, fragile.
And still… when his arms wrapped around my neck,
the storm paused for a moment.
His laughter, his presence
kept me going.
Helped me get back up
again
and again
and again.

When I paint puffins, I see the ideal version of “together”.
Then I return to our own “together” —
just two hearts,
yet strong enough to anchor an entire cliff.

Life doesn’t follow plans.
It follows love.
And that is so much more.

Afterword

This painting reminds me:
trust can be rebuilt — even from ruins.
Courage often arrives quietly,
in late-night hugs,
when you choose to endure just one more day.

These puffins are my symbol of hope:
that even one protector can build a safe home
for dreams still waiting
to hatch into the world.

And maybe one day someone will hang this painting on their wall,
while facing their own northern wind.
And whisper to themselves:
“I’m not falling. I’m growing against the storm.”