Most candles start with a name. This one started with a smell.
Maplewood, tobacco leaf, faded memory. Warm and woodsy, without being trees or spice.
It came from a wooden Hope Chest with a gold lock, opened in a spare room in my nanas basement. Inside was a quilt, made by hands two generations back. The crate smelled like wood and something else, something old, memory and all of the things we pass down through the generations.
The candle got poured before it had a name. Hope Chest came after, once it was clear what the scent was actually holding.
It's not the most popular candle in the shop, but it's one I'd never let go of.
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