The Nation, October 10th, 1987
THE HOLLY TREE
More than a tragically impaired sense of moral perception is implied here as I watch the local householder hack down the holly tree in his backyard. It is of course the only domesticated holly for thirty miles, a shabby tree with leaves that look waxed, a tree from which everything barring life itself has been expunged, but still a tree. Walking by I sneeze; he says, Salud, and again, salud. Perhaps this is consideration he shows me, at least acknowledgement of fellow humanness. I stop to ask him why he kills the tree and listen to his story which includes the arm of his son ...
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