The girl would disappear for hours on end to the bottom of the garden and talk to the wise old elm tree. She would tell the tree all of her secrets and the tree would listen and offer up its branches to give advice to the girl. Only the girl could hear the tree; she had long since stopped trying to convince anyone else that the tree could talk. The tree told her that soon she would not be able to hear the tree talk either, and that would mean she was no longer a little girl. Her mother had became concerned about the hours the girl would spend in isolation, and had decided that she would be sent to boarding school to spend time with other children. Upset, the girl sought solace with the old elm and said she wished she were a tree with roots in a place that was home that she would never have to leave. The tree rustled a sigh and told her that she should not be afraid of moving. Unconvinced, the girl asked the tree why she could not be in one place for a whole day, or a whole year, or even a hundred years if she lived that long, just like the old elm. The tree told her that it was because a tree does not have a heart, and it is the heart that moves people. The girl ran her fingertips over the carved names of her mother and father in the bark of the old elm and the branches drooped a little. The sun closed out its light and the air fell silent but for the sound of the girl and her beating heart.