Two years ago tomorrow, my world changed. Not in the way I would have chosen.

Gabriel and I were limited to one hour a week together. Sixty minutes on FaceTime. That was all we had, and I was determined to make every second count.

We started by reading together. Michael Morpurgo's Puffin Keeper first, then Gabriel reading back to me, then an illustrated edition of Treasure Island, which Gabriel loved because the hero shared his granddad's name. When we finished, I asked the question that changed everything: "Would you like to make up a story where you're the hero?" The answer was immediate. Yes.

Gabriel began describing his vision with absolute clarity. A sea monster to defeat. A platypus sidekick named Platy. Adventures that spanned oceans and impossible quests. I did something remarkably simple: I scribed his exact words. No corrections. Pure, unfiltered capture of his imagination. About eight weeks later, we had six complete stories. They became The Adventures of Gabriel.

Looking back now, I can see what was invisible to us then. The one-hour constraint was forcing the conditions for breakthrough storytelling. Gabriel arrived prepared because his ideas could not wait for later. I listened with complete attention because there was no time for anything else. There was no space for correction, only for capturing his voice before our time ran out. We had accidentally created a methodology.

I wondered: could this work with other children? So I took it into classrooms. The results exceeded anything I had imagined: 465 children across UK schools, 100% engagement, children with SEND creating complex narratives, EAL learners finding their voice, boys who had refused to write for months producing stories they were proud of. Zero behavioural incidents. Not one.

My background is in physiotherapy, not education. For twenty years I developed a specific way of listening. Therapeutic listening is not about fixing or correcting. It is about creating the conditions where people can access abilities they did not know they had. When I unknowingly brought that approach to storytelling with Gabriel, something happened that I now see in every classroom: when children are given complete creative autonomy, no corrections, just pure capture of their imagination, they discover they are storytellers.

Gabriel's second book, The Shadow of Zuff, is not six short stories. It is one complete novel. Still illustrated, because why would you abandon pictures just because you are getting better at writing. It reached number one bestseller in October. Our FaceTime sessions continue. Two years now, one hour a week. The limitation gave us the gift of constraint, proving that this methodology works under any circumstances, even the hardest ones.

I will not pretend the constraint that created this was welcome. Two years of FaceTime sessions when your child lives a mile away is not okay. But sometimes the limitations we face contain a breakthrough. Not because the limitation is good, but because it forces us to discover what is essential. For Gabriel and me, it was storytelling. For the hundreds of children who have followed, it has been the discovery of their own voice.