
THE PAGE THINGS PROMISE
From me to you.
When I decided to share Page Things, I knew pretty early on that if something meaningful came from telling my story, I wanted that good to keep moving.
I've had an extraordinary life.
Not always an easy one. You'll figure that out pretty quickly. But when I look back over fifty years, I'm struck by how many people showed up along the way.
People helped me when I desperately needed it. They gave me opportunities, taught me things, loved me, and believed in me. Others simply happened to be standing in the right place at the right moment and did something they may not even remember.
I remember.
And I've been incredibly fortunate.
So here's my promise.
If Page Things becomes successful, I will use
that success to do some good in the world.

One of them is the Page Things Horse Sanctuary, a place I've imagined for years where horses can be safe, cared for, and allowed to simply be horses, with room for other animals who need a safe place, too.
That said, the vision has never been only about rescuing animals.
I imagine a place where people can heal alongside them. Where animal-assisted therapy and art therapy can create opportunities for connection, expression, and healing. Where the land itself is respected and protected. A place built around the idea that helping people, helping animals, and caring for the environment don't have to be separate things.
It's a big dream. I know that.
But I've also lived long enough to know that some of the best things in my life began as ideas I couldn't yet see how to make real. So I'm willing to put this one out into the world, give it everything I can, and see what we're able to manifest together.
I don't know whether Page Things will sell hundreds of copies, thousands, or far more than I can imagine today. I can't promise what resources we'll have or exactly what we'll be able to build with them. What that looks like will change as Page Things grows. It may mean helping one person through a difficult moment, supporting an organization already doing extraordinary work, protecting a piece of the natural world, or giving an animal another chance.
And someday, I hope it means opening the gates to the Page Things Horse Sanctuary—a place that once existed only as an idea and became real because enough of us believed it was worth building.
Eventually, I'd love for all of this to grow into the Page Things Foundation—a way to make giving back part of the permanent DNA of this project and to keep expanding what we're able to do for people, animals, communities, and the world around us.
But I don't want to wait for a nonprofit, a board, a sanctuary, or some future milestone before I start living the promise.
We can start where we are.
Because if writing this story has taught me anything, it's that the things that change our lives aren't always the things that look important at the time.
Sometimes it's a person.
A conversation.
An opportunity.
A kindness.
Someone showing up.
One little thing that becomes a page in the story of your life.
I've had a lot of those pages.

I have bills like everyone else. I have debt. I have a life to maintain, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. But beyond taking care of those ordinary responsibilities, I don't need Page Things to make me wealthy.
I'd much rather see what we can do with it.
I want Page Things to help people. I want it to help animals. I want it to help protect the environment and the beautiful places we're lucky enough to share.
But I have dreams for us, too.
I can only promise what I'll do if success comes.
I'll share it.

This is my promise to help create some for somebody else—and maybe leave this place a little better than I found it.
There are already incredible organizations doing this work every day, and part of my vision is simply to support them. I don't believe we have to reinvent something that's already working. Sometimes the best thing we can do is put resources behind people who know exactly what they're doing and help them do more of it.
A Letter from Christa
Stay with me beyond the pages.
Every now and then, I'll share a note about writing, memory, the stories we carry, and whatever I'm thinking about on the day.
No constant emails. No noise. Just an occasional note from me to you.