On the very highest branch of an old maple tree, there lived a little leaf named Klenyk. He was bright green and very proud.
When autumn came, the leaves around him began to turn yellow.
"I don't want to change!" said Klenyk. "I'll stay green forever!"
But one morning, he woke up yellow as the sun.
"Oh no!" cried Klenyk. "What's happening to me?"
An old golden leaf named Zolotko rustled beside him.
"Don't worry," whispered Zolotko. "It's nature. Soon we'll fly down."
"No!" shouted Klenyk, and he held on to the branch even tighter. "I'm not letting go! This is my place!"
Zolotko just smiled and let go of the branch. The wind caught him, and away he flew, twirling through the air.
"Goodbye, Klenyk! Don't be afraid!" his voice drifted back.
Klenyk watched as one by one, the other leaves floated away. They danced on the wind, landed on the grass, and sailed along the stream. But he held on.
A week went by. Klenyk turned red as an apple. The branch became bare and cold.
One evening, a swallow named Strilka flew by.
"Why are you still here?" she asked in surprise. "All your friends are down below."
"I'm scared," whispered Klenyk. "What if it hurts? What if I disappear forever?"
Strilka perched beside him.
"You know, I was scared to fly south too. But if I hadn't gone, I'd never have seen anything new. Look down."
Klenyk looked. Beneath the maple tree lay a carpet of leaves — gold, red, and orange. Children were gathering them into bouquets. A little squirrel named Rudyk jumped through the rustling leaves, laughing. Zolotko lay by a puddle, reflected in the water like a second sun.
"They look… happy," whispered Klenyk.
"Because they weren't afraid of change," said Strilka, and she flew away.
Klenyk thought for a moment. Then he took a deep breath of the cold air.
And he let go of the branch.
The wind caught him softly, gently. Klenyk twirled through the air — up, sideways, down. He was flying! It felt like dancing!
He landed right in a little girl's hands.
"Oh, how beautiful!" she said happily, and she placed him in her scrapbook between the pages.
Now Klenyk lies there, bright red, and through the glass he watches the girl draw. She often looks at him and smiles.
And outside, snow is falling. Soon winter will come, then spring, and new green leaves will appear on the old maple tree.
And everything will be all right.