Nature does not ask the river why it carves one path while another tricklesaway. The mountain does not scorn the sapling for growing in its shadow, nordoes the wind demand the storm to soften its gust. Each piece of the worldhas its own journey, shaped by the sun, the rain, the passing of seasons,and the unseen hands of time. So too do we, as children of the Mother, walk our own roads. No two leaveson a tree are the same, yet together they shade and shelter. No two stonesin the riverbed have been worn by the waters in the same way, yet togetherthey shape its flow. We must remember this when we look upon our kin, ourfriends, and even our foes. It is easy to believe that our own experience is truth, that our pain isthe deepest, that our wisdom is the greatest. But Zandreya teaches us other-wise. The fox does not know the hardship of the birds flight, nor does thedeer understand the strength it takes for the roots to break the earth. Eachis shaped by the Mothers hand in a different way. Each is given their owntrials, their own joys, their own lessons. We must not judge too quickly, nor assume that anothers path should be likeour own. Instead, we must listen. We must open our hearts to the wisdom inall ethings, even those we do not yet understand. For in every experience,no matter how different, there is something to learn, and in every lesson, Zandreyas hand is present.