First, there was a seed surrounded by pulp, then, thanks to the wonderful warmth, intoxicating water, and healing earth, a plant began to grow. It grew stronger, sprouting new shoots, and each year, leaves appeared on them. Until finally, the plant matured and began to look like a tree. And like any tree, it became a useful creation. Every year, it bore abundant fruit and delighted the eyes of the animals. Thus, a new world was created...
In spring, a bud began to form on one of the branches, heralding the imminent arrival of a leaf. The part of the branch that housed this bud felt responsible for the existence of this new son of the tree. It cared for him tenderly, feeding him nourishing juices from within the tree and exposing him to the pleasant rays of the sun. The branch rejoiced and eagerly awaited the development of its protégé.
One beautiful, sunny day, the leaf finally began to unfold. His first glimpse of the world was a very pleasant experience. Greenery surrounded him, something glowed in the sky, and he felt an incredible bond with his mother. "Welcome, my son, to the sunny world!" said his mother, the branch. "Be my decoration and protection, my son!" said his father, the tree. The leaf didn't respond because he wasn't yet fully developed and couldn't speak. The leaf respected his parents greatly. He loved them with all his green heart and felt at ease with them. Moreover, he had many brothers around him, whom he watched closely.
When the leaf was fully developed, he began to ask various questions about life. He was curious about where it came from, and his mother replied that everything was created by the Great Sun, and its greatest ally was rain. The leaf asked, "Then why are there clouds?" Then his father would join the conversation, "Because clouds make rain." "But surely, clouds cover the Great Sun?" the leaf wondered. "Honey, even the sun needs a moment of rest sometimes," his mother explained patiently. The leaf still didn't understand, but he figured it would probably come with age.
One day, he overheard his mother talking to a neighbor who didn't have a son. He learned that she was also expecting a child, but it wouldn't be a leaf. This intrigued him deeply, as he didn't know what else existed on a tree besides leaves. But he felt embarrassed to ask his mother, so he patiently waited for the neighbor's child to be born. Until one day, he woke up and saw a white bud next to him. Every day, he carefully observed its charming petals and stamens unfolding. The flower unfolded, and the leaf simultaneously began to experience a sensitivity to beauty.
When the flowers began to spread their sweet, alluring scents, the little leaves began to feel more masculine. They began to gossip about the beauty of the tree women. Each little leaf defended the flower closest to it. There were a few exceptions: some little leaves preferred the charms of the girls further away. Most often, they discussed the size of their chosen ones' petals, the whiteness of their leaves, and the amount of pollen on their stamens. And, of course, the intensity of their fragrance and overall beauty.
Little Leaf wondered for a long time why flowers existed. Until one day, he observed bees landing on them and then flying away. He wondered why the bees didn't land on him. After a few days, he began to observe how the petals began to fall from his beautiful flower. He then began to cry. He asked his mother, "Mom! Why is someone taking away the most beautiful thing in my life? I think I'll stop believing that the sun cares for me! If it did, it wouldn't have allowed it to take my flower!" the leaf cried through tears. It was then that doubt first appeared in his life. Unfortunately, the twig couldn't explain to him why things were the way they were. She didn't fully understand the sun's wisdom and love, but she was convinced of its existence.
After the leaf learned that the sun wasn't all-powerful, and his parents couldn't explain why, he became a rebel. He looked angrily at his brothers and couldn't bear to be constantly under their parents' protection. He lived in his own world and didn't even notice the beauty of the world. After a while, the leaf realized that his brothers were also rebellious—just like him. They decided to unite in their rebellion. They didn't listen to their parents' voices at all; they did whatever they pleased. In fact, all they could do was rustle loudly in the wind.
When summer arrived and all the sons felt the sun's more intense influence, they ended their rebellion. Of course, they still hummed, but it no longer had that aggressive note. Then they turned back to the sunny path and noticed that right next to them, some green balls on thin, green stems had formed. They were in exactly the same places as the flowers had been. This intrigued all the leaves, because these balls once again possessed something beautiful about them. Above all, they were a perfect figure—a sphere. Identical to the Great Sun. Some of the older leaves suspected they were the buds of enormous leaves on thin twigs.
After several weeks of patient waiting, our main character, the leaf, noticed that the little ball was beginning to turn red. He loved it. Every day and night, he gazed, fascinated, at this strange wonder that had formed right next to him. One day, he asked his mother, "Mom? Will this red ball be able to speak?" The branch replied, "Of course, little leaf. Every creature on this tree can speak—it's only a matter of time." So the leaf waited and waited until it finally arrived.
"Hello, little leaf!" the ball said. The leaf replied, "Hello! What are you, little red ball?" "I'm a cherry," she replied. The leaf loved the sound of this word and confided in the cherry that he, too, wanted a unique name—not like the thousands of his brothers. He and the cherry spent a long time thinking of a name for the leaf. It took them three days and three nights. But in the end, they came up with a beautiful-sounding name. From then on, the leaf asked to be called Woolly.
From then on, an incredible bond began to form between the leaf and the cherry. Together, they watched the stars in the sky, the moon, the rising and setting sun. Together, they laughed until tears fell when it rained, together, shivered with fear when lightning struck nearby. In fact, they did everything together, and it felt very good. They both felt as if they had known each other in a previous life and deeply believed they would meet again in the next. They also hoped to die together—neither of them wanted to suffer the loss of the other.
From the time the cherry began to redden, it grew redder each day. It even tried to hide it from the leaf, but he could still see it. Each day, it also grew thicker and softer. The leaf didn't mind at all, even though it didn't change—ever since it had grown up, it had remained green and the same size.
One day, the leaf noticed the cherry beginning to wrinkle. He began to worry about her, but didn't show it. And each day she began to grow smaller and more withered. One day, the leaf decided to have a serious talk with the cherry. "Cherry! Are you by any chance sick?" The cherry was silent for a moment. "Woolly, I think I'm getting old; I feel like my end is very near. You know what? I'm very afraid of death." When the leaf heard this, he felt a strange emptiness and incredible regret. He began to console the cherry that the next life would surely be much better for her than the one they were in now.
They decided that they must spend their last moments together talking about something they had never discussed before. And they didn't talk about their faith. They focused mainly on the afterlife. Their faith held that after death, they would give life, and then, when the weather warmed up again, they would regain their lives. This was a rather unclear concept to them. They didn't understand what the phrase "give life" meant.
One rainy day, a cherry fell from the branch. As it fell to the ground, it managed to say goodbye and assure the tree of its love. The leaf was left alone again. He felt much worse than when he had lost the flower. He didn't want to see. He didn't want to listen. He didn't say anything. He didn't want to be called Woolly. He slowly began to turn yellow, but he didn't care. What difference did it make whether he was green, yellow, or brown as long as his cherry wasn't with him?
After about two weeks of this, he began to feel very heavy, until one day he separated himself from his mother, his father, and thus from his entire world. It rested on the ground. It felt strange there. Instinctively, it searched for its cherry, but it wasn't there. It lay there for a while until the wind began to blow it.
At first, it felt incredibly light. It flew over the bushes and flowers, feeling like a bird. But after a week of wandering around the world, it grew weary. It had had enough of flying with the cheerful yellow leaves, because it wasn't cheerful at all—it was sad. It felt terribly lonely: it was without its mother, father, and cherry, and worst of all, it couldn't return to them because its movements were completely independent of its control. It searched obsessively for the red ball, but it was nowhere to be seen.
When autumn finally arrived and the wind began to blow more fiercely, the leaf felt terrible. It couldn't admire the beauty of the world, as the image only swirled before its eyes. It no longer even looked for the cherry.
One day, during a particularly heavy downpour, the leaf fell to the ground, and it felt a protrusion beneath it. He didn't know what it was, but he suspected it was a stone. When he regained consciousness the next day, he heard a soft, faint voice beneath him: "Damn! Something fell on me again!" Hearing these words, Leaflet froze in shock. It was his cherry's voice! "Cherry! It's me, Woolly." Cherrylet was very surprised and very happy—just like Leaflet. They began to tell each other about their adventures after falling from the tree. Practically nothing interesting happened to Cherrylet. She simply fell and lay there. They decided that now nothing could separate them.
And so it was: until winter, they lay together under the tree, tightly bound together. They felt as if they were one. When the snow fell, they clearly sensed that their end was very near. They felt so old... When the snow cover reached a height of one meter, they began to decompose. But even during this process, they felt alive, and most importantly, they were still together. Moreover, in their state of decomposition, they felt far more useful than when they were alive. They had a vague feeling that they were helping others survive this difficult winter.
When spring arrived, a new tree began to sprout from the ground—produced by a cherry supported by a leaf. Thus, the circle closed... or rather, opened.
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