I was out in my fields, spade in hand, planting trees this morning. I feel good when I do it, knowing that long after I am gone, these trees will 1 high above the land, providing oxygen for humans not yet born and 2 the carbon dioxide from the air.
Each spring, as I am 3, my mind goes back to a 4 I have of my grandfather, walking with him on the land, listening to his 5 and learning about nature. He often told a story which has 6 in my imagination all these years.
It was in the early 1900s, a man lost his wife and daughter to a terrible disease. Filled with 7, he decided to take up the 8 occupation of shepherd in the hills. He was about 55 years of age at that time, and as he 9 his sheep, he looked around and saw the land was 10. Then the old man felt he needed to do something to help the land11, for it had once been a splendid green forest.
He collected some 12 of oak trees from other places, 13 watered them and cared for the young trees that sprouted the next year. For the rest of his life, he planted every day. No one knew his story until he was 90 years old. Yet he 14 to plant, perhaps only five trees a day. At that time, the hill had become a green forest, 15 as far as people could see.
