Honey & Curfew with Hiliry Harvey (Ep. 2)

Hiliry Harvey was twenty, alone in Rome with a midnight curfew and a dream of auditioning for the Santa Cecilia Conservatory. She had a hundred dollars a month and a tiny room in a pensione that locked its doors at midnight sharp. Most nights she found her way to Da Enzo, a ten‑table trattoria in Trastevere where you found the owner by following the sound of someone yelling his name.One night two strangers sat at her table. One Italian, one German. They invited her to a private club down the street. Guitars on the walls. Then the guitars came down and everyone played until nearly midnight. Hiliry looked at her watch. Curfew. She had to go."That's ridiculous," the German one said. "Come live in my house."She didn't know him. She didn't know the Italian who vouched for him either. But something inside her said yes. So she did. Six months in a stranger's home while he worked in Africa. No disaster. Just kindness. Just trust. Just a moment so sweet she says you'd have to cover it in honey.This is a Pan de Dios moment about saying yes before you know why. About the magic that lives right next to the ridiculous. About what happens when you listen to something deeper than fear.At the end of this episode, Hiliry graces us with a song she wrote, performed in an acoustic video she filmed. Listen for "Let the Wedding Begin" – a beautiful closing to a beautiful conversation.Christina’s Website: https://www.visionarypower.com/podcastShare Your Own Pan de Dios Moment: https://www.visionarypower.com/contactSubscribe: [Apple Podcasts] | [Spotify]Hiliry divides her time between California and Italy, often visiting Mexico. A musician at heart, she began composing songs at fourteen and has played cello and sung in an Italian pop group, taught English at university, and continues to make music wherever she goes."I had a curfew at midnight. A stranger said 'Come live in my house' – and I said yes. That was the Pan de Dios. Covered in honey."— Hiliry Harvey"This is a Pan de Dios moment covered with honey. The big trust. The feeling of joyousness. Hiliry reminds us that sometimes the most sacred invitations come from people whose names we don't even know."— Christina JohnsonHave you ever trusted a stranger and found a home? Or said yes when every practical bone in your body said no? We’d love to hear your story. Visit our website to leave a message or send us an email. And may your Pan de Dios always be rising.