A Whiff of Four-Leaf Clover Luck and Stories untold Isn't it peculiar how some things just stick with you? I remember, quite vividly, my Gran telling me about her grandmother's locket. It wasn't anything flashy, you see, just a simple silver piece, but it held the tiniest, almost imperceptible, pressed four-leaf clover. She'd say it was her secret weapon, her little whisper of good fortune, a constant reminder that even in the trickiest of times, a sliver of hope, a bit of magic, was always close by. This wasn't just a piece of metal, but a repository of quiet strength, a connection across gen...
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