When I was young, I lived in a city that was mean and hard and ugly.
Nothing grew.
Everything was broken.
No-one ever smiled.
The people had grown as mean and as hard and as ugly as their city.
And I was mean and hard and ugly too.
I lived by stealing from those who had almost as little as I did.
If you promise to plant them, I'll let go.
Alright. I promise.
Acorns...
I understood the promise I had made.
I held a forest in my arms.
And for the first time in my life, I felt lucky.
Rich beyond my wildest dreams.
I planted by roads, on roundabouts.
Among rubble ruins and rusty railings
I pushed aside the mean and hard and ugly.
I planted, planted, planted.
Nothing changed at first.
But slowly...
People came onto the streets to see.
They touched the leaves in wonder.
They took tea together by the tiny trees.
Soon they were planting too.
Trees, flowers, fruit and vegetables.
In parks and gardens, on balconies and rooftops.
Green spread through the city like a song.
Breathing to the sky.
Drawing down the rain like a blessing.
I planted in another sad and sorry city.
And another.
Until last night, I met a child just like the thief I used to be.
Give it!
If you promise to plant them, I'll let go.
I promise.
I made the old bargain.
Knowing a heart can change.
Knowing my planting will go on.