The room was filled with the scent of lavender, soft and calming, as you settled onto your yoga mat, feeling the coolness of the wood floor beneath your legs. The afternoon sun filtered through the large windows, casting warm beams of light across the room, creating an atmosphere of peace and tranquility. Christina Dyson, your yoga instructor, stood at the front of the room, her presence calm and grounded, yet somehow commanding in its own gentle way.

Christina had always been like that—strong but nurturing, wise but warm. You had been taking her classes for a while now, though you were much younger than the other students. Despite your age, the woman had always made you feel welcome, always encouraged you to push yourself, but never too far.

"Alright, everyone, let's start by focusing on our breath." Christina said, her voice soft but clear, cutting through the quiet murmurs of the class.

You closed your eyes and did as she instructed, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest, trying to match the rhythm of your breathing with the serenity of the space. Christina’s presence was comforting, and as she moved through the room, correcting postures and offering gentle words of encouragement, you couldn’t help but feel at ease.

"Remember to ground yourself," Christina’s voice floated to your ears as she paused near your mat. "Feel the floor beneath you, and let that connection guide you."

You inhaled deeply, letting the calm of her words wash over you. When you opened your eyes, Christina was looking down at you with a small, encouraging smile. You had always admired her—her grace, her strength, and the way she seemed to exude wisdom beyond her years.

"Doing good?" She asked softly, her eyes kind as she bent down slightly to meet your gaze.