Hello,
Dear soul,
And welcome to the Library of Ecos,
A timeless space where the past,
The present and the future meet.
Here,
My voice will be your companion,
Carrying ancient stories that heal,
Inspire and awaken your heart.
So close your eyes,
Breathe deeply and allow the echoes of the past to guide you within.
There are many choices we can make in life,
Decisions that shape who we are and where we go.
But one thing we cannot choose is where we are born.
That single fact can shape an entire life.
And yet,
When we move in search of something better,
It's comforting to know that we,
Or at least our children,
Will always have a place to return to,
Should fate call us back.
Because home is not only where we currently live,
It can be anywhere in this wide world.
Our roots grow deepest not in soil alone,
But in the places where we truly feel we belong.
And this is the tale of the dandelion.
One day,
The fairy of flowers went to visit her flower friends.
She asked each of them if they had any requests or complaints.
Do you receive enough cool morning dew?
Does the evening breeze play with you kindly?
Do the butterflies come to greet you?
Do the pampered garden flowers one by one visit their grievances?
The rose asked the fairy to make the violet scent less sweet,
For the rose was jealous.
She wanted people to delight only her fragrance.
The fairy of flowers,
Kind as a true fairy should be,
Scolded the envious rose and gently caressed the quiet,
Modest violet.
The daisy asked for thorns,
So people would find it harder to pick her,
Asked for sharper swords for her leaves.
The evening primrose wished the bloom in the morning instead of at dusk.
The fairy grew displeased with these selfish requests.
Saddened,
She left the garden and decided not to visit those spoiled flowers again anytime soon.
As she walked home through the forest with lowered head,
She noticed a dandelion blooming by the dusty roadside.
She stopped and asked,
Tell me,
Dear dandelion,
Do you have no wish,
No request?
The dandelion shook its golden head.
No,
It had neither wish nor complaint.
Don't you long for a sweet fragrance?
Or perhaps thorns,
So the children cannot pluck you easily?
Still,
The dandelion asked for nothing.
But as the fairy turned to leave,
She heard a sigh.
She turned back.
Perhaps you do wish for something,
Little dandelion.
It's useless,
Fairy,
Said the dandelion.
Even your power cannot help me.
I came from far away,
From another land.
I have rooted myself here.
And I know I shall never see my homeland again.
But whenever I remember it,
Sorrow fills me.
If only my children could travel.
The fairy told for a moment.
With her great power,
She granted the dandelion's wish.
From then on,
Its fluffy little children would be born with tiny wings.
The wind would catch them and carry them across hills and valleys to far away places.
And if the breeze blew just right,
One or two of them might even return.
To the homeland their mother longed for.
May this story bring you calm and lightness,
Like the wind carrying the seeds of a dandelion.
