This book is not a special story.
It is just a record of a slow look into one person's life.
I wanted to tell the story of how I protected myself in the midst of the day everyone experiences and the emotions everyone faces.

And I wanted to share memories with the people who were like trees in my life and quietly permeated my life, making me who I am today.
You gave me something to lean on when I was tired, provided shade under the hot sun, and watched over me from afar, allowing me to walk again.
If you too are just surviving through the day, I hope this little story will bring you some warm respite.

It would be better if I could have a conversation with myself through that break.
Life speaks to us every day.
When we quietly listen to that sound, we begin to understand ourselves a little better.
I've packed those quiet words into every corner of this book.

If you too are going through your own season, let's walk together.
I believe in that heart that is growing slowly but surely.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, the greatest poet of the 19th century.
He suffered profound loss twice.
He lost his first wife to illness and his second wife to an unexpected accident.
Despite such hardships, he left behind many beautiful poems.
There is an anecdote told about him.
Someone is said to have asked Longfellow:


“How could you write poetry in such hardship?” he is said to have replied, pointing to the apple tree in the garden.
“Every year, that tree puts out new branches, blooms, and bears fruit.
“I lived like that too.” Every time I hear this story, one question comes to mind.
“Am I growing a new branch now?”

Living is a process of constant change, learning, and growing.
But most people are afraid of change.
Because the thought of 'is it too late?' holds me back.
But trees don't keep track of time.
It only grows branches that can stretch out even at this very moment.
Looking back, I too have always lived my life taking on new challenges.
But I couldn't do that when I was a child.
I remember waiting for a friend in front of the piano academy.
Every time I heard the sound of the piano, I felt a strange feeling.
‘I want to learn too.’ But I couldn’t say those words out loud.
I was too young, didn't know how, and most of all, I lacked courage.

As I did as a child, we hesitate in front of opportunities as we live.
The thought, ‘I can’t do that’ is what blocks you from taking on challenges.
But the beginning of a challenge may not be a grand resolution, but a very small step.
So I started learning piano late in life.
At first, my fingers were stiff and I couldn't move them properly, but I enjoyed the process.
The sense of accomplishment of having accomplished what I wanted to do left a new and strange feeling.

These small accomplishments began to open doors within me, one by one.
Although I graduated from the nursing department, I couldn't easily let go of my passion for Korean literature and early childhood education.
Eventually, I studied Korean literature at the Korea National Open University and entered the Department of Early Childhood Education.
On the path of learning, I continued to discover the potential within myself.
‘I can do this too.’ ‘I can learn that too.’ That kind of confidence grew little by little.
And that wasn't the end of it.
While studying social welfare, my interest in the human mind deepened.
This interest led to the study of understanding and changing behavior. I expanded my focus to fields that explore human thought and behavior, including Neuro Linguistic Programming (NLP), transactional analysis, and fortune telling.
So, in my late twenties, just two weeks after giving birth, I started attending night school.

--- From the text