As I watched her little figure tumble into a ball of frustration, I felt a stirring deep within my roots—a sense of empathy for this girl who craved freedom from the tangles of life, much like I longed for the winds to carry me far and wide. She was a force of nature, a tempest of emotions, trapped in a body that didn't quite feel like hers. I thought of all the hands that had touched my trunk and the many faces that had lingered under my branches, but none had ever shared their thoughts so openly, spilling their frustrations like rain.
“Well, Ekko,” I imagined myself sending through the air, not in words to be heard but in a language of the heart, “you might not be able to change into a jellybean today, but perhaps I can help you in other ways. We can share the beauty and comfort of this moment together.”
The girl uncurled slightly, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears of frustration. Suddenly, the wind picked up just a bit, rustling my leaves. A soft whisper carried through the branches and fell around her like a gentle shower, landing not just around her but also on her thoughts.
“I want to be free,” she murmured, her voice now softer, like a breeze flowing through my branches. “I want to be light and float away.” She looked up, noticing the fluttering leaves, a new spark of inspiration lighting her eyes. “Do you think trees dream?”
I pondered this for a moment. Did trees dream of windy nights and starlit skies? Did we wish for the freedom to dance like blades of grass in a meadow or to leap through clouds like birds? “Perhaps they do,” I thought. “Perhaps dreaming is all we can do.”
“Maybe we can dream together,” I sent back to her through the gentle sway of my branches, urging the leaves to twirl and flutter down like confetti around her. She giggled for a moment, her sadness lifting like the green canopy above. “That would be so cool! You can be like my imaginary best friend!”
Imaginary best friend? I had never considered that notion, but it thrilled me. I may be a tree, unyielding in my place, yet here I had found a companion, a kindred spirit who recognized the unseen magic of my existence.
“What if we start our own story?” I quivered with excitement, my leaves shimmering in the sunlight as if encouraging her to embrace her creativity. “What if you became the Main Character — Ekko the Brave, the girl who could gather the courage to transform the world around her?”
She blinked at me in wonder. “Ekko the Brave? I like that! But how can I be brave when I just want to run away?”
“There’s bravery in wanting to escape, Ekko. And it takes even more courage to confront what troubles you.” I could feel myself radiating warmth as the sun kissed my leaves, wrapping her in an ethereal glow. “What is one thing about your world that you wish you could change? Maybe we can discover your power together, even if just in your mind.”
Ekko tilted her head, considering. “Well, I’d like it if my mom understood me better. She thinks I’m just a weird kid, but I want her to see how special I am!”
“Then let’s create their story — one where your voice is heard and your wishes valued. A world where you’re not just Ekko but Ekko the Adventurer, setting paths and exploring new realms!”
In that moment, my leaves seemed to whisper more fervently, twirling in response to her imagination. Day turned to dusk, and the shadows stretched long, wrapping around us in a comforting embrace — a canopy of possibility.
Ekko's eyes sparkled again, and she began to weave a tale of her own. “Okay, so in my new world, my hair can change colors according to my moods! And when I’m angry, I can summon storms like a thundercloud!” She raised her arms dramatically, her creativity blooming before my eyes.
“Yes! And maybe you could meet other beings who’ve felt trapped, just like you, and together, you’d discover how to unlock your powers,” I encouraged her. “They might even be trees, see?”
Suddenly, the laughter of children echoed from the playground, snapping her back to reality, faint yet vibrant. “That sounds amazing! But what if—”
“Fear is the only thing holding you back, Ekko,” I interjected. “What if you took one brave step, starting with a small change today?”
She considered my words, her brow furrowing. “But what can I do?”
“Talk to your mom,” I suggested gently. “Let her know what you feel. You deserve to be seen and heard.”
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting golden hues over the park, I felt a surge of hope, not just for my own stagnant existence but for the girl who had breathed life into me. With every drop of a leaf, I chose to believe. “You never know; your bravery might inspire others, and together, we can craft a story yet to unfold.”
A glimmer sparked in Ekko’s eyes as she slowly rose to her feet, glancing back at the bench where her mother sat, immersed in her digital world. “Maybe I will. Maybe I can be brave, just like Ekko the Brave!”
And in that moment, rooted deeply in the soil yet stretching towards dreams of flying, I felt a new story take root—a tale of courage, friendship, and transformation. Perhaps, just perhaps, I could be a co-author of Ekko’s journey all along.