FOR THE DAYS YOU FEEL UNHEARD In a world designed in such a way that the loudest voice in the room is treated as the most valuable I hope you remember the quiet of the trees. How they stand there, tall and listening, home to everything that sings and grows, a beacon of loss in winter and lush hope in the summer. When the wind blows through them, they serenade us with this gentle folk song, their most ancient secret: You do not have to be loud to be heard. You do not have to be loud to be brave. You do not have to be loud to be beautiful. Nothing is expected of you, other than growing in the
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