The Letter From the Tree

Over countless centuries I have suffered through the pain and grief that comes with watching my kind fall. I understand many of you humans know what it's like to lose a loved one. Maybe a friend or a dear neighbor, or if your less lucky someone in your immediate family. But none the less, it's not likely to be more than a handful of misfortunes.

But, as a tree, I must watch as every day acres upon countless acres of my friends are lost to me. And for what? For the greed of others, that's all.

And yet, we have done nothing, I repeat, nothing to deserve these murders. Nothing to provoke this massacre except for the simple fact that we root ourselves in soil claimed by your kind, or that our trunks can be sold as profit for your greed.

We trees have devoted our lives to providing you and all of Earth's creatures with the air that you breath and the shade that you seek. Yet we are rewarded only by the pain of a saw. For our had work we are given nothing in return. All we ask is to lie and raise our children, but you won't grant us even that.

If humans are as smart as they claim to be, why can't they see that by killing us, they are also slowly yet surely killing themselves as well. How long do you suppose you can hold your breath when the air is no longer breathable? When there aren't enough of us left to purify it? How long will it take for the ozone to dissolve? Let me tell you: Not long at all.

But I will be gone by then, if this is to go on much longer. I can already hear the growl of the saw as it draws nearer and nearer each and every day. I may only try to help you, all of you, see what are doing and hope you understand the price you pay for your actions.





Good luck.








The Old Tree.





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