Well, learn something about me, who is just a tree: it doesn't take much strength to cut something tied to the ground, that can't run to escape. You have legs. They may seem strong and fast and capable of taking you to the edge of the world, or you may think they are weak like reeds and will bend at the first difficulty. But you have legs and they are yours. Me? Where can I go? What can I do? I have roots. They are what nourish me, of course, but they are also what keep me stuck here, ready to be used by anyone. I stand here and wait for your decision. And that decision will become my fate.

There was silence. But it was a silence that said a lot, too much.

- I will ask you only one thing: why did you save me when I was a little shoot that others called a parasite? Why didn't you give me your hand back then to uproot me and throw me away with the other garbage?

Why give me a life if that life is not mine?