On her turf

On her turf ~ Crystal Gornto with Myla Patton | HeartStories

Six years ago in November, I made a phone call that changed my life in so many ways.  My husband thought I’d lost my marbles (again).  But I was just doing what I do.  I was dreaming big.

I called Myla.  

When I was single in Dallas, there were a few years in my past that I spent flipping houses on the side.   We’d lived in Frisco for 6 years, when I discovered a little gem of a neighborhood and started scouring it for sale by owner signs.  I was determined to find a run-down, long-forgotten home, on a little piece of land, to buy and renovate for our family.  I dug into the online property files (& printed everything!).   But I kept noticing that this beautiful woman, named Myla, had a sign at almost every home that was for sale.

I was clearly on her turf.

So one day, after months of digging, I got the nerve to call her up.  Completely prepared for her to laugh in my face, or never call me back.  I’ll never forget the day she called.  We were at Taco Bueno after church on Sunday when the phone rang.

It was Myla.

I ran outside to take the call so she wouldn’t hear my screaming children. Instead of talking down to me, about that neighborhood being far out of my reach, she was delighted I’d called.  She asked about my boys and my dream for that area.  She was excited to meet and show us around.

She believed, with me, that we could make something happen there.  

It’s been six years.  Hundreds. . . literally. . . hundreds of showings later, and we still haven’t moved.  Many agents would have fired us as clients long ago. But you know Myla has done instead?

She’s become family.

Myla Patton with my boys ~ on her turf, Crystal Gornto | HeartStories

She’s become like a sister, a friend, a mentor.  She shows up at birthday parties, holidays and special events in our lives.  She loves my children like they are her own.

Myla understands priorities.

Of course, when we first met, she probably thought she would sell us a home.  And one day, no doubt, she will.  But at any point in the six year journey, she could have stopped calling.  She could have let things slide and we would’ve completely understood.

But she didn’t.

She allowed potential business to be the blessing that connected us and then, she let it go.  She focused on loving us and letting us in, to love her back.

I wonder what would happen if we all did a little more of that.

Who in your life owes you something today?  In what relationship do you feel like you’ve been giving long enough, and it’s just about time they pay up?  We would have missed so much life if that was Myla’s way of thinking.  If that’s how she protected her turf.

Instead, she showed up to love.

It turns out, that’s what it’s like to be on Myla’s turf.

We could all use a little more of that.

to more love,


P.S.  In true Myla fashion, in addition to everything she’s already done, she is supporting and sponsoring this dream of mine to create a Girl’s Night Out to connect and encourage busy women, because she shares my dream to see all women living the stories of their hearts.   Tickets are still available for this Thursday.  I hope you’ll join us if you can. . . and give Myla a great big hug for me!


  1. This could not have been written any better than this for Myla. She is such a special, caring, loving dear friend to all who lands on her turf.


    1. Absolutely agree LisaKay❣

    2. Lynnharveydesigns@gmail.com

      This is written exactly the way I remember my dear friend Myla.
      I now reside in Florida full time, but I think of her more than often.
      She is kindness, grace, elegance, loving and most of all a true friend!!
      I miss my friend and have not spoken to her in a long time!
      Will you please pass this on. Tell my dear sweetheart that someone in sunny Florida loves and misses her!!
      Lynn Kirker

      1. Thank you so much for taking time to comment Lynn! I did pass this along to Myla via email. She certainly is all of those things you mentioned and yes, most of all, a true friend.

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