Short story written by Fernando López Aguilar. Smallholder and Regional Technician of Scolel´te for 20 years.

One hundred years ago, we used to see the trees tall and strong, now, we see them very small. I want to remind you that 49 years ago, I was an enemy of the mountains, I scared them with the machete and the ax, and I killed several of them, so the trees did not approach me.

But one day, I could talk with the mountains and the trees. I asked them why they were so scared of me. All the trees surrounded me, and they told me that their grandparents, their parents and many children had died in the war.

And I asked - With what were they killed in war?

Then they tell me - A machetazos, and they throw us fire, that's why we are sad and cry, that's why our parents died with that fierce war. And now, we still see some of our parents, but no more than their bones and their ashes, lying on the ground-

And I asked - Where are those bones?

And they tell me - Turn your face and and see with your own eyes, they are in all the towns and in your homes, giving them life.

I tell them -Trees, you are bad, that's why you were killed with machete and fire-.

And they tell me -No, we're not bad Fernando. I will tell you all the services we provide, we are defenders of life and the living beings. We capture carbon dioxide, we introduce nitrogen to the soil, we give oxygen. With the scent of our flowers, we give freshness when the sun burns and you can rest under my branches. We give organic fertilizer and help to provide water.

And now the trees surround me and claim me of their living beings - Where are my deers? Where are my peacocks? Where are my mudguards? Where are my snakes? Where are my tigers, my lions and others? Because they were our mariachis and they sang the mañanitas to us.

I tell them - I no longer know all your living beings.

And they tell me - Give them back to us-.

And I tell them- I only know a few, your snakes, if they are the ones that bounce into the houses when it rains.

And they tell me - Those bastards are mine, they are not bad.

And they tell me - Fernando, tell the students, to teach to their classmates, not to make us suffer this war anymore.


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