Rumi the turtle stood at the edge of Meadowland. The blue mountains shone in the distance. His shell felt heavy. “I want to reach that bright stone,” he said. “Even if the path is slow.”

Rumi started along the path. Grass brushed his legs. Birds sang above. The ground turned rough. Stones pressed his feet. He tripped on a root and rolled onto his back.

He took one slow breath. “Try again,” he whispered. He rocked and tipped, then landed on his feet. Step by step, he moved onward. The hill grew steep. His legs ached. Some goats ran past. Dust swirled behind them. Rumi watched them vanish.

“I am last again,” he said.

A cold wind hit his face. It pushed against his shell. He wanted to crawl back to the soft grass of Meadowland. No one would be upset if he quit.

Rumi touched the strap of his little notebook. He remembered each story inside. Times he fell. Times he rose. “Falling is not failing,” he said. “It is part of the path.”

He lowered his head and climbed.

The wind grew calm. The sky opened wide. Rumi saw the bright stone near the top. Light glowed on it. Each step hurt, but his heart felt strong.

He reached out and rested his hand on the stone. He closed his eyes and took three slow breaths.

Pride spread through his chest. The mountains no longer seemed so huge. On the way down, tired kids sat on the path.

“I slipped,” one said.

Rumi opened his notebook. A page showed a muddy turtle smiling. “This one is for you,” he said. “We keep going.”

They rose and walked beside him. Slow. Steady. Still trying. Together they felt ready for the next climb.

Rumi falls, aches, feels slow, and wants to quit—but chooses to keep going, learns from his stumbles, and then encourages others. His journey frames resilience as “falling is not failing; it is part of the path.”