Mawar Merah, the beloved rose of Pak Tua, stood in the serene garden, her petals heavy with dew yet unquenched in her thirst. The silence of the early morning was broken only by the whispers of the leaves of Beringin, the ancient tree nearby. "I miss the rain," she murmured softly, her voice like a gentle breeze. "I know, Mawar Merah. You seem weary," rustled the branches of Beringin.
Mawar Merah reflected on the past, when the rain would wash over her, invigorating her with life. "The sun warms me, but it's not enough. I yearn for the refreshing touch of rain," she sighed, recalling the beauty of her blooms under a sunlit drizzle. Beringin swayed gently, remembering those vibrant days. "You were truly radiant then, your petals kissed by both sun and rain," the tree's leaves seemed to say.
Mawar Merah felt the heaviness of drought settling upon her. "This morning dew is a poor substitute for the rain I crave," she lamented. The earth beneath her roots was dry and yearning, much like her own spirit. "How I long for the soothing sound of rain, for its gentle caress," she whispered, her voice almost drowned by the rustling of Beringin's branches.
As the day wore on, Mawar Merah noticed a shift in the sky. Beringin seemed to sense it too, its roots clinging to the earth with renewed anticipation. "Look, the clouds are forming," it whispered through its leaves. "Could it be the rain at last?" Mawar Merah wondered, her petals lifting slightly, drawn towards the promise of relief.
And then, after what felt like an eternity, the sky opened up. The first drops fell gently, a prelude to the deluge that followed. Mawar Merah felt the rain's cool embrace wash over her, quenching her thirst and filling her with joy. "At last, I'm alive again!" she exclaimed, her spirit soaring with each drop that soaked her petals.
The garden transformed under the rain's touch, a paradise reborn. Mawar Merah stood proudly, her blooms vibrant and full of life. The air was rich with the scent of wet earth and the joy of rejuvenation. Beringin stood as a silent guardian, its branches swaying with satisfaction. "This is the beauty of hope fulfilled," Mawar Merah mused, basking in the rain's blessing.
