A Stamp of Courage

I noticed an old carved wooden block resting beside a tin of craft ink on the low table. Its underside was etched with the fierce, swirling mane of a little lion. Stepping closer across the woven rug, I picked up a leftover square of cream cardstock. Carefully aligning the heavy wooden stamp over the ink pad, I pressed down with both palms, putting my entire body weight into keeping it steady and even. When I lifted the block, a crisp terracotta lion looked right back at me, surrounded by delicate tribal swirls. Tucking the fresh print safely against the bookstack felt so satisfying.