The sky overhears everything, Jimmy. Your midnight sobs for a spring that passes by your window pane shall not go unnoticed and unheard. The once dried up tree under the summer heat shall then blossom; yes, the flower buds of your ever desire for true tranquility and saintly fragrance shall someday open up—fully—as long as you stand your ground and keep your roots. The summer seems like a year, a decade, eternity even. The suffering never seems to end. The spring, however, shall come; you, puhon, it shall welcome. Continue being the wonderful, sturdy tree that you are. Till then, after the sun shine its brightest in this scorching summer, the heavenly scent of new life eagerly awaits... YOU!!!