Under the tree

One time, Luz Mery was in a nature reserve in the municipality of Barbosa. While there, she took off her sneakers and socks, sat down and put her feet on the grass, waiting for something to happen. After several minutes, she began to feel a positive mood growing within her. It was a simple experience that marked a before and after in his life. He felt a sense of peace flow throughout his body.

"Today I'm freeing myself from tension," she told Madroño, the tree with colorful fruits that was right in front, which, although it didn't speak to her, it did listen to her, she said.

—Madroño! Do you want to continue listening to my story? —Luz Mery asked—

The tension was an emotional burden since, at the age of five, she and her siblings were displaced by violence from Restrepo, Valle del Cauca, to Medellín.

—I lived happily in the countryside, playing and helping with the housework, until the atrocious violence of the guerrillas stalked the area and my parents decided to send us to live with an aunt in Medellín in the Robledo neighborhood, Miramar. There I thought that everything would change, but it didn't… —He told Madroño, while hugging him—

In the eighties, fear, terror and perplexity took over the streets of the neighborhood and the entire city; The spring evenings were overshadowed by the darkness of the hitman and even the weapons extinguished the family celebrations, the conscience and the life of one of Luz Mery's brothers.

—Imagine Madroño! What I experienced in Robledo was worse and I experienced it firsthand, it left me with many consequences. I felt anger, my heart was breaking. And I realized that revenge fuels pain more; I decided not to bow my head and transform my life with words, dance, singing and social work. Because where I can sing I can laugh and where there is love, there is a powerful force called reconciliation.

But what do you think I'm doing wrong? Not everything in my life is going well. I suffer from spinal cord cancer due to my long hours smelting lead in a factory in Itagüí and I was even left alone raising my children. Ah, but I have also had moments where I have given love! Like when I play soccer, I bathe and hug the street dwellers who live on the banks of the Medellín River, because they want to be heard and welcomed. I even know a local who speaks seven languages and teaches others to write.

I didn't have love and I want to give it now. I live every day as if it were my last.

Madroño knew that he had to prepare for winter, and while he received Luz Mery's strong hug, he let his leaves fall on her as a sign of gratitude for what she had told him; He made a lattice with his roots and some flowers for her to rest on. Then he lay down with a sweet smile and slept soundly under the tree.

This short story is written to commemorate the life of Luz Mery González, who was a victim of the country's armed conflict and decided to heal his life by joining, since 2022, the Reconciliation Choir, the Medellín Philharmonic's commitment to peace. Luz Mery passed away on Sunday, August 6, 2023.