There was an old tree on a quiet hill.
Every autumn, all the other trees dropped their leaves fast —
sudden, dramatic, loud.
But this one tree?
It let go slowly.
One leaf at a time.
Never rushing.
Never matching the others.
Just releasing at the pace its branches could handle.
And because of that,
its leaves never tore,
never snapped,
never bruised from forcing a fall.
They drifted gently.
Every single one.
People thought the tree was stubborn.
But really…
it just knew its own timing better than anyone else.
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Jessica Carey
