Little Tree…

Little Tree, Little tree, look at you. Against all odds, here you are.

Living in a pond, roots gripping an old tree stump, you found a way where none was meant to exist. Water surrounds you, cold and still, yet you hold on. Not because you were strong, but because you were patient. You adapted to less soil, shifting light, and constant uncertainty. You didn’t ask permission. You simply grew.

They would say you don’t belong here. Yet here you are—quiet proof that life persists when given even the smallest chance. You remind me that resilience doesn’t shout; it endures, slowly, stubbornly, and without apology.