Macks, the trees were still big when I was much bigger already when I came home in 2002.
Bitaw, I hope they still have those beautiful trees! I remember our poem which we also used to sing with our Grade 3 teacher, then Ms. Paredes, entitled A Tree:
I THINK that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
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