CHAPTER 1
MY STORY
Hello, my name is---well my name is not important. However, the story I want to share with you about myself might be of interest to you. My story has been written down in the annals of history. Many books have been written about me over the centuries, but none of them have told my side of the story. Many movies have been produced about me, and many sermons have been preached about me over the centuries. Yet nobody has heard the story of my life from my point of view.
My story starts about two thousand years ago on a mountain just outside the City of Jerusalem, called THE MOUNT OF OLIVES. You may have guessed by now that I am a tree. You are probably thinking that trees are not supposed to be able to communicate with people, but I assure you that when you finish reading about my life you will believe they can.
As a young sprout growing up on the mountain I was very naïve. My parents stood near the spot where I grew up. My Father would teach me many things about being a tree and how to enjoy life on the mountain. He warned me about the men who dwelt in and around the City of Jerusalem below. “Many of those men are not trustworthy and kind. The only one that you can trust is our Creator who lives in Heaven,” he would say. Over the years I would learn those lessons, as well as many others, the hard way.
My father taught me that, as trees, God had created us to serve mankind. God created all the tree families to help mankind to perform duties they themselves could not perform. Each family of trees were created for a specific purpose and God had placed within them the ability to perform the task for which they were created. “Always trust in God and He will make you a TREE OF RIGHTEOUSNESS,” my father would say.
Many tree families had more than one purpose and could be used in several different ways. I was a member of the Olive Tree family. We were the most prominent trees which stood upon the mountain where I grew up. They even named the mountain after us. We were known far and wide for the oil we produced.
As an Olive tree I was created to produce olives and leaves for the people in the area to use in several different ways. My leaves were used to make medicine. My olives were used for food to nourish the people in the valley below. The oil from my olive berries was used for cooking and to be poured into lamps so mankind could see during periods of darkness.
Our oil was also used in the Lampstand in Temple of God which stood in the city below. The Religious leaders would also use oil to anoint people. Our oil was also used in lamps to help people see in the darkness of the night. There were many other things for which we were used, but I think you get the picture. Many times people would climb the mountain and sit under the leaves of the trees to protect them from the harsh sun during the summer months.
Some trees on the mountain were cut down and used to make housing and furniture for the people below. After being harvested a few of them had the distinction of being placed in the Palace of the King who ruled in the city below.
Unfortunately, many trees that were dead were cut down and used as firewood to keep the people below warm during the winter months and the cold evenings which were frequent. “I would hate to be used as firewood,” I would think. “My usefulness to mankind would be short-lived and there would be nothing left of me but ashes to blow away in all directions by the wind.”
When the olive trees grew older and could not produce fruit anymore they were cut down and used just like many of the others trees on the mountain. I heard that my uncle was used to make furniture and placed in the King’s Palace below. My aunt was made into parchment. My father told me a Scribe penned the Holy Scriptures upon her to inform people of His will and purpose for their life.
My Father told me that one of his great grandfathers was used in Solomon’s Temple to build an Altar for the Priests to offer up sacrifices to our Creator. “What an honor it would be to serve God as an Altar,” I would think. As a young tree I would dream of being used in the Temple of God in some way. “To serve God in His Temple would be the ultimate joy,” I thought. This became my lifelong dream. “Stay true to your calling and Jehovah, the Creator, will be able to use you in another capacity when you are no longer able to produce oil anymore,” my father would say.
Many times as a young tree I would watch as men would climb the Mount of Olives and cut down trees and take them into the city below to cut and shape them into something they could use. The olive trees were also harvested when they passed their reproductive age.
At the bottom of the mountain next to the Eastern Wall of the city stood a small hill men called “Golgotha.” It was also known as “The Place of the Skull.” I would watch in horror as men would climb the mountain to cut trees and make them into crucifixes. They would place them on the hill called Golgotha to punish men who were evil.
I always thought this to be a very cruel and unusual way to punish men for their crimes. In my mind no human being should ever have to be punished for their crimes in this way. It was most disturbing to see men die in this fashion.
Many times as I was growing up I stood on the Mount of Olives as men were placed on crosses and crucified. My leaves would shed tears, and my branches would bow in sorrow as men were mercilessly punished for their crimes outside the city below. “What a terrible way to punish people for their crimes,” I would think. “Surely, there has to be a more humane way to punish men rather than make them suffer in such a horrific way.”
As I grew older I heard many stories about the Temple of God which men had built in the city below, and how the Creator would bless the people as they worshipped Him there. As a youth I dreamed of one day being used in the Temple in some way just so I could be near God, my Creator.
I heard some men talking one day that even the trees would someday bow down and worship God. “What a joy that would be,” I thought. “Maybe the Altar in the Temple would need to be replaced one day, and God would choose me to replace it,” I would dream.
As I started to mature, I became bitter about many of the things which I saw going on around me. Sometimes heavy winds would come through and break off some of my weaker branches. One time two young boys came by and carved their initials in my trunk just for the fun of it.
One day a man was swinging on one of my larger branches. He was so heavy the branch broke off and fell to the ground. It was very painful, and it was the most beautiful branch I had. That branch bore more fruit than all of the other ones.
Later that same week two men were walking by me, arguing as they went. One man stopped and broke one of my branches off and started beating the other man with it. “How can mankind be so cruel to one another? “ I thought.
Over the years men had treated me so cruelly I became very bitter toward them. I decided that if all men were like the ones I had encountered in my life I did not want to have anything to do with them anymore. So, I decided from then on to do my best to deprive them of the fruit they used to produce the food, medicine and oil they needed. I tried as hard as I could to become a dry tree.