My grandma had an olive tree in her backyard, and this tree is part of my childhood memories. She would ask us to help her collect the olives and then, under the porch of the yard, she would prepare them to be ready for our Christmas eve. The olives would rest inside a big clay pot in the shadow of the porch.
We were a big family and we, all cousins around the same age, grew together under the protection of her wings.
While she prepared them, she would tell us, their granddaughters and grandsons, some tales about how we should stick together like the branches of the tree. She was the trunk and would protect and feed us always, and each of us was a tiny olive from the tree.
We replied saying we were in less number than the olives, but she would reply saying olives are little babies of the world and not all of them had a grandma, so she would take care of them all.
I will always love my grandma and keep her within my heart! She's my guardian angel and I'm still her little olive!