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I’m a proud graduate of St. Michaels High School. I went on to college, earning both my bachelor’s and master’s degrees in psychology and criminal justice, driven by a passion for understanding people and helping others. Today, I live with my husband and our two dogs, and have grown beyond Talbot County, but want to spread the Eastern Shore love and charm. I’m a person with a big heart, and I’m determined to continue helping our community grow in love, compassion, and unity. — values that lead directly into the story I’m hoping to share.

This time of year always feels a little heavier for my family and me. February marks the anniversary of my sister Elizabeth Lewis’s passing. She passed away unexpectedly on Feb. 3, 2022, and even now, it still feels unreal to say her name in the past tense. Liz had the purest heart. She loved deeply, fought for what was right, and showed compassion to everyone she encountered — especially those who needed it most.

In honor of her memory, I often ask myself a simple question: What can I do to make a difference, even in a small way? That question led me to an idea that has now become a tradition.

Last year, I created over 100 Valentine’s bags filled with simple but meaningful items — snacks, blankets, hats, socks, gloves, scarves, hand warmers, sweet treats, hygiene wipes, chapstick, and hand lotion. I delivered them to women and children at My Sister’s Place in Baltimore, a day shelter and resource center for women and children experiencing homelessness and poverty. This year, I continued that mission, expanding it to include children’s bags, and bags for those on the streets around the city as well.

What began as an act of remembrance turned into something much bigger. I was reminded that kindness doesn’t have to be loud, complicated, or political. It doesn’t require agreement or shared opinions. It only requires humanity.

My sister believed in people — truly believed in them. She believed that everyone deserves dignity, warmth, and to be seen. Through this small act, I saw her spirit alive in the smiles, the thank-yous, the quiet moments of connection. The outcome wasn’t just the bags themselves, but the reminder that love still exists in simple gestures.

We live in a time when it feels easier to be divided than united. But grief has taught me something important: at some point in everyone’s life, we all need a helping hand. We’re all human first.

I invite our community to join me in remembering Elizabeth — not just by her name, but by her values. Do something kind. For your neighbor. A friend. A family member. Or someone you pass on the street who may be struggling in ways you’ll never know.

Do it for Liz.