So begins the tale of The Golden Snail – a children’s book written and illustrated by Gravesend gardener Steve Franklin and dedicated to raising funds for local hospice charity ellenor.
For every copy Steve sells for £3.50, he donates £1 to ellenor. This helps the charity raise the £7 million it needs each year, the majority of which comes from the generosity of its local community, to continue providing vital care and support for Kent and Bexley families facing life-limiting and life-threatening illnesses.
Steve’s connection with ellenor is deeply personal. When his mother was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer during the COVID-19 pandemic, it felt like life was falling apart. As his mother moved from one care facility to another, it was an uncertain, challenging time until she was referred to ellenor for end of her life care.
“ellenor was the first place where there seemed to be as much emphasis on us, as a family,” Steve says. “Up until that point it felt like everyone was either fighting us, ignoring us, or letting us down.”
Steve’s mother spent 12 weeks at ellenor and though she didn’t pass away on the hospice’s Northfleet-based inpatient ward, Steve will never forget the dignity, respect, and high-quality care she received there. He also cherishes the way ellenor’s team kept in touch with his family after his mother’s death to check in on them.
Steve struggled deeply with his mother’s death. He began to experience ongoing psychological challenges, which caused him to withdraw from his responsibilities and those around him.
Then, around the same time, two events occurred. Combined, they would shape Steve’s life forever.
First, Steve underwent counselling, which had a profound effect on him. Armed with mental exercises and strategies that “unlocked something in my mind,” Steve began to recover. The creativity that had been dislodged by the counselling began to grow and needed an outlet.
That outlet was creativity.
Then, one day, Steve was walking in the park with his granddaughter Billie when she stopped, stooping to pick something up. “I think he’s lost!” she cried, turning to Steve.
In her palm was a tiny snail. With a golden shell.
“Golly gosh!” she cried. “You must be very proud to show off your beautiful shell around here. The little snail looked at her sadly and said “Actually, the truth is that I hate it. All the other snails won’t have me around because they can’t see that, really, I’m just the same as them.”