• People say that willows whisper to who ever passes by. A little girl who no one liked was sitting by an old weeping willow by a lake. She was writing in her journal that day. A strong,cool wind blew the leaves off the tree onto the little girl's pages. The sun is beating down on the little girl's hair. Soft hands write fast within the pages. Dressed in a soft pink to and blue jeans,Christine writes about what shes going to do this summer. Watching the pages and words unfold on each page,Christine's lover is sitting in a tree with a black rose in his hands.