But the trees seemed to know me. They whispered among themselves and beckoned me nearer. And looking around, I noticed the other small trees and wild plants and grasses had sprung up under the protection of the trees we had placed there.
The trees had multiplied! They were moving. In one small corner of the world, Grandfather's dream was coming true and the trees were moving again.
Stichwörter: trees ruskin-bond
and when all the wars are over, a butterfly will still be beautiful.
Ruskin BondStichwörter: life love beauty peace war human-nature human childhood india butterfly ruskin-bond
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