My story is the adventure of a lifetime

I am an olive tree. My history goes way back. My name was mentioned in the inscriptions of ancient civilizations and holy books. When I was a frail little seedling, when the pasha died, a beautiful woman in the village named Sultan planted me in the soil. She spent most of her days taking care of me. She brought me to this height by singing folk songs with her own troubled heart.

After a while she never came to me. She would not start the day without coming to me. I realized that she had passed from this world. I am an olive tree at the foot of the Taurus Mountains. I had the advantage of being in the village with a sea view. I was very happy to be at people's tables, regardless of rich or poor, because I loved the sun and the sea, because I flourished and developed quickly. I was the crown jewel of the tables. Children used to play in my shadow because I kept my greenness in winter and summer. There was an old village school with two rooms a little beyond me. The voices of the children coming to school sounded like a lullaby to me. Day by day I branched out. I was proud of my curved and rather large trunk. In mythology, I was called the immortal tree. It contains all kinds of minerals and vitamins and is my source of healing. I loved to dance swaying in the breeze. I was close to five meters tall, and I had the ability to reconcile resentments. The popular saying "give me an olive branch" has survived to this day.

With my imposing stance on the slopes of the mountains overlooking the day, I was a type of tree that belonged to the Mediterranean climate and grew naturally. My berries were green and black with an indispensable taste. I was the hope of the poor. Do you know what made me the happiest? I loved life and my life was long. The purple squirrels nesting in my trunk made me feel that I was an important person. They were my little friends. This friendship lasted for many years. I had a silent exchange of feelings with them. I could not get enough of watching ants carrying food for the winter in my rooted body. The little sparrows chirping on my branches reminded me of the beautiful memories of my youth.

I didn't need many reasons to be happy. I knew how to be happy with little things and I thought I deserved it. Happiness would not last long, it would be instantaneous. It was incredibly beautiful when the snow fell in flakes on winter days, sending kisses to my green branches. My life would be colored when the seven colors of the sash that emerged after rainy days warmed my body. It was good to live despite everything.

I also had my own fears that I didn't like. In summer, people would have picnics in my shade. They would leave without collecting what they ate and drank. It was an art to leave the place clean. Why could human beings be so insensitive? If I had a tongue, I would have shouted at them with my branches. There was no one more ungrateful than man in this world. They were mowing me and my friends down to make Rand. Or with a cigarette butt, they would have slaughtered me and those beautiful forests without mercy. I cried silently, I couldn't make my voice heard. Many creatures like me had thousands of stories to be written separately. I wanted you to know that I am an olive tree at the foot of the Taurus Mountains.