At the bottom of a garden, under a pile of cozy leaves, a tiny seed was dreaming.
She dreamed of standing tall in the sunshine, her leaves stretching wide, her flowers nodding in the breeze.
"I'm too small," she thought. "How can I ever be something so big?"
But then the rain came, gently pattering on the soil above her. And the warmth of the sun crept down through the earth.
And very, very slowly — so slowly you could hardly notice — the tiny seed began to grow.
A little root here. A little shoot there. Then, one bright morning, she pushed through the soil and felt sunshine on her face for the very first time.
She wasn't a big tree yet. Just a tiny green sprout.
But she was growing.
And that is enough. To start small, to keep trying, to reach toward the light.
That is enough.