The Echo Tree

In the heart of a forgotten forest, there stood a peculiar tree. It was tall and ancient, its bark cracked like the lines of an old map. Locals called it The Echo Tree, and they said it could hear your thoughts—if your heart was honest enough.

Tama, a quiet boy from a nearby village, often wandered into the forest. He didn’t speak much at school and rarely played with others. His mother had passed away the year before, and his world had grown quiet and small.

One afternoon, after another lonely day, Tama sat beneath the Echo Tree. He didn’t say anything. He just closed his eyes and thought of his mother—her laugh, her stories, the way she used to braid his hair when he was little.

Then, something unusual happened.

The leaves above him began to rustle, though there was no wind. A faint whisper traveled through the branches: “You are not alone, little one.”

Tama’s eyes widened. “Did you say that?” he asked the tree.

The tree didn’t answer with words again, but a sudden warmth spread through Tama’s chest. It was like being hugged from the inside. For the first time in months, he smiled.

From that day forward, Tama visited the Echo Tree often. He would sit quietly and think, and somehow, the tree always gave him peace. His sadness didn’t vanish overnight, but it no longer weighed him down. He started to speak more, laugh again, and even made new friends.

The villagers noticed the change in him. Some began to visit the tree, too—not out of superstition, but out of hope.

And deep in the forest, the Echo Tree stood tall, still listening.