The little boy sat alone on the grass, weaving wreaths out of wildflowers he had picked from the surroundings. Around the little boy lay numerous wreaths, some new, some old, and many already withered. Immersed in his craft, the boy placed each finished wreath beside him, then picked up more flowers to start another.
After a while, an elder walked over, seeming quite sentimental as he gazed upon the wreaths scattered on the ground. After speaking to the boy and looking around nostalgically, a gentle breeze began to blow, lifting countless petals into the air, obscuring everyone's view. As the petals slowly fell back to the ground, both the little boy and the elder had vanished, leaving only a tombstone with a wreath hanging upon it.
