The trees told to children
“One day, we should all plant a tree; it is a way to have a silent friend, true and protective”. This is the opinion of Thahar Ben Jelloun, Moroccan writer, poet, and essayist, fond of trees since he was a child attending secondary school in Tangier. One day the teacher invited the students to plant a tree in a small forest on the city’s outskirts. Thahar called his little tree Shabi, “my friend”. It was an oak. That was the begin of his passion for trees, made of contemplation and thoughts, part of which is collected in the book “The trees told to children”, recently published in Italy by the publishing house La nave di Teseo.
A book speaking to children, teens, their parents and their teachers. But also speaking to everybody who love trees and nature. A book – illustrated by the writer himself – that is a walk among the trees marking the path of Tahar Ben Jelloun, author of the world bestseller “Racism Explained to My Daughter”. A set of memories, poems and stories teaching the little ones how to listen to the stories that nature reveals us but also, how to be amazed by her presence and above all to learn to protect her every day.
In his story Ben Jelloun praises above all the concept of slowness, of which the trees are an example for humans too: “Trees need time to grow, to expand and resist for various decades, or even a century or two - and we too should take our time. Their life is a tribute to slowness. Being born, growing up, defending oneself, getting sick and finally die. Slowly, safely.
Man has a problem with time. On the contrary, trees haven’t. They live without haste, without making noise, without fussing about”.
Trees know to behave better than humans – like when they climb towards the sky to find light, which is their source of nourishment, but at the same time they do not prevent their neighbour from having access to food. They know how to come to an arrangement so as to let each one have their dose of light. Trees that can count, calculating after how many warm days the cold ones are bound to come. “But” the writer muses “what is to become when climate change warms up the winter, burns the summer, dries up or floods whole months in our calendar? How could our trees know when leaves should fall and when would be the time to grow new sprouts?”
Children – and adults – are told how trees live together with their families and that solitary trees grow crooked. They are told that trees can communicate within themselves, warn each other of dangers and call for help using ultrasound.
Trees that are keepers of our sleep, our health and breath.
But are we worthy of such a gift?
