In a village where everything was white and gray—from the houses to the trees—there lived Ana, an eight-year-old girl who loved to explore. One day, while playing near a dried-up river, she found a golden seed hidden under a stone. “How beautiful it is!” she thought, and decided to plant it in her yard.
She watered the seed and waited, but nothing happened. Until one night, as she watched it glow under the moon, she heard a tiny voice:
“I need songs to grow!” said the seed.
Ana, surprised, began to sing a soft melody. Instantly, the seed sprouted, and a flower emerged, painting the air with pink. It was magical!
“Come quickly!” the flower said to Ana. “If you sing with more friends, the garden will become even more colorful.”
Ana ran to gather the village children. At first, they laughed at her idea:
“Flowers that need songs? How silly!” one said.
But when they saw the pink flower glowing, they decided to help.
Together, they sang a cheerful song:
“Flowers, flowers, come out to play, the village wants to dream again.”
And something incredible happened. The ground trembled, and hundreds of flowers bloomed to the rhythm of their voices. There were yellow sunflowers, red roses, and blue violets, all dancing as the children sang. Even the river stones, once gray, began to shine like diamonds.
“It’s a miracle!” a child shouted.
“No, it’s magic made with songs and friends,” Ana explained.
Every afternoon, the children gathered to sing. The flowers grew taller, and their colors spread through the village, painting the walls, rooftops, and even the clouds. The adults, who had only seen gray before, now smiled as colorful butterflies fluttered through the streets.
One day, the largest flower in the garden spoke to Ana:
“Thank you for giving us music. Now the village has life, but something is still missing…”
“What?” Ana asked.
“That you keep singing. The magic doesn’t live in the flowers, but in your hearts.”
Ana understood. From then on, whenever someone felt sad, the children would sing together. And though the seed was gone, the village kept shining, because they had learned that joy is born when you share your voice and dreams.
End. 🌼
This work is licensed under
