A vast cloud came soaring over a field of crops in the early winter, the crops waited in despair for the cloud to rain but it never did. It just flew by without leaving a single droplet.
The crops however weren’t burnt and ruined because the winter was young and other clouds will come. Thus, someday it will rain before the summer comes and the crops die. The crops were still hopeful and nothing broke their spirit.
But as the world works on a cycle there’s always a chance that the same first cloud might come back and the crops will always be waiting for that rain.
The first cloud was forgotten by the crops, but if it passed by again it would be like a new opened page.