In a quiet corner of an old garden, a tiny rosebud grew beneath the thick leaves of a great oak. She had never seen the sun, for the oak's branches blocked the light. She had never felt the rain, for the leaves caught every drop. She had never heard the bees buzz with delight, for they never flew so low.
"Why am I here?" the little rose asked the soil.
The soil whispered back, "You are here to bloom."
"But no one will see me," she said.
"Bloom anyway," the soil replied.
So the little rose stretched her stem, opened her leaves, and slowly, petal by petal, she bloomed. She was sm