ALT Every autumn, the woman lost a part of herself. Her leaves turned red and gold before falling to the ground, leaving her branches bare. She watched them disappear, afraid that one day, nothing would remain. But a few stubborn leaves held on, even when the cold winds came. She began to see them as little pieces of hope, reminding her that not everything beautiful had to end. She knew they would fall eventually, too. Still, she let herself believe that spring would find her again.