Allow Your Journey to Light My Path From a very young age, Annie carried an unspoken knowing: she was here to protect, to stand, and to remember. As a child in elementary school, she instinctively defended those who could not defend themselves. When other children were bullied—girls or boys, it made no difference—Annie stepped forward. Courage was not something she learned; it was something she brought with her.
She also cherished solitude. In quiet moments, Annie would sit alone and close her eyes, returning to a memory older than words—the moment she first became conscious of being. She remembered sensations rather than stories: the awareness of eyes upon her as she lay cradled in someone’s arms, the confusion of being dropped when she was still too young to understand the world or her place in it. These early impressions stayed with her, not as
wounds, but as reminders that her awareness ran deep.
Yet Annie had no map.
She was raised in poverty, in a rural family that did the best they could with what they had. Education was limited, survival took precedence, and there was no tradition of recording family stories or reflecting on life’s deeper meanings. Her family did not know how to document their journey nor did they realize how valuable that journey would be to those who came after them.
Because of this, Annie walked many long and unnecessary paths. She learned lessons the hard way, through detours and dead ends that might have been avoided if she had been given even a small light to guide her. Each experience taught her something, but the cost was time, energy, and years of stagnation.
This raises an important question:
Should anyone especially those who feel called to serve humanity have to navigate their mission without guidance from their ancestors?
Every family, regardless of wealth, education, or social status, carries wisdom that can illuminate the path for future generations. Most people never consider how critical their lived experiences are to those who will come behind them. They assume their story does not matter because they are not famous, celebrated, or seen by the world.
Annie’s family was not known. They held no celebrity status. And yet, Annie was still chosen to fulfill a mission. Her progress was delayed not by lack of purpose, but by lack of a recorded roadmap one that could have revealed the pitfalls, the patterns, and the hard-won truths of those before her.
This is the lesson Annie now shares:
Document your journey. Tell the truth about who you were, where you struggled, what you overcame, and what you wish you had known sooner. Share your challenges as openly as your achievements. Your story may be the very thing that frees someone else from repeating the same pain.
Today, there are resources available that previous generations did not have. Companies like Your Days Your Legacy now exist to help families capture and preserve their stories ensuring that wisdom is not lost and that future generations have guidance rather than guesswork. Annie is now walking her true path. She is committed to helping guide humanity toward a spiritual golden age, and she is documenting her story so that those who come after her—starseeds and seekers alike—will be better equipped to continue the mission.
Her message is simple, yet profound:
Let your journey light the path for another. Do not underestimate the power of your story. And never be afraid to share your truth because it may be the guide someone else has been waiting for.
Story approved by:
Annie Hayes
