A tale unfolds where moonlight spills, of a willow old on silent hills. Its branches sway with secrets deep, while weary villages lie asleep. One night a child with curious eyes heard gentle whispers, soft as sighs. The tree spoke of forgotten lore—of kindness, courage, and something more. It told of seeds from stars above that grew through acts of selfless love. The child listened through the dark till dawn’s first light began to yawn. From that day forth, the whispers spread, like roots of ...
