My daughter Kwynn is now 7 years old.

When she was 3, we created three make-believe characters together: Dragon Bruce, Princess Brella, and Piano the Monkey. Night after night, these characters became the heartbeat of our bedtime routine…shapeshifting, adventuring, growing.

Then one weekend, Kwynn had a sleepover with her older cousin, Xander. In our family, Xander is a sports legend. Kwynn? She’ll hit a tennis ball, but she’d rather build a magical kingdom than chase an opposing player.

But when Xander met Dragon Bruce, Princess Brella, and Piano the Monkey, something beautiful happened. He turned them into a sports story. A full-on, adrenaline-filled, team-vs-team saga.

And Kwynn didn’t mind. She loved it.

She loved that her cousin took the world she helped build and added to it. She loved that her characters became a bridge. And years later, they both still remember those names. They still co-create new stories when they’re together. They still care.

That’s the power of storytelling.

Not just as entertainment, but as connection. As a way of seeing and being seen.

Last week, I was reminded of it again.

I attended parent-teacher conferences at Kwynn’s school. Her first-grade teacher (who we are incredibly grateful for) shared how the class had been building stories: choosing characters, shaping settings, deciding how their plots unfold.

At the time, Kwynn’s teacher didn’t know about Wendy.

But she described the very heart of it.

And it hit me: how rare this kind of experience still is. How few classrooms have the time or space to let kids author their own worlds. How easily it could disappear if it’s not made a priority, and how problematic that would be for kids.

Because storytelling is not a luxury.

It’s how kids make sense of the world and their place in it.

It’s how kids process, express, and explore.

It’s how they build empathy and imagination.

How they develop voice and confidence.

How they begin to shape their inner world, and eventually, their place in the outer one.

Our kids need more tools to help them tell stories.

Tools that open doors to imagination and wonder.

That invite collaboration, not comparison.

That honor every child’s passions, whether they dream in dragons, sports, or something entirely their own.

That’s why we built Wendy.

It started as a ritual.

It became a mission.

Now, it’s a story-building toolbox.

A place where kids like Kwynn and Xander can bring their wildest ideas to life. Where their stories evolve, return, and grow with them. Where imagination gets to stretch, bend, and sometimes take the lead.

We didn’t set out to build an app.

We built a place for kids to practice telling the one story that matters most…their own.

To shape their world before the world shapes them.

To carry their voice further than it’s ever been heard.

So they learn to wield their imagination like a superpower.

Wendy is just the beginning. The real story is theirs.

If you’d like to gift Wendy to a classroom for free, just message me.

We’d be honored to share it.

Sometimes one small door opens to an entirely new world.