By Robyn Suzuki
7^th grade, Del Norte county
Illustrated by Valley High School

My life as an olive started out as a tiny little rootstock buried beneath the ground. After a couple of months my roots had started to grow and my stem came out from the ground. A year and a half later my roots had been planted firmly in to the soil. Different creatures, especially earthworms which bring me nutrients, always visit my roots. Now my trunk is growing and my branches stretch higher towards the bright blue sky.

Two years and a couple of months have passed and my sturdy tree house is growing more branches everyday. My leaves collect sunlight and my roots collect nutrients from the farmer's fertilizer. When three years have passed my tree house has grown lots of tiny, cute, round green buds. I'm the very top one and I'm very proud to be at the top of my family tree.

Four years and three months have come and gone since I was a tiny rootstock. All of the buds, including myself have grown into a beautiful pink blossom. Bees come by everyday, since this is the first Spring that my tree has bloomed with flowers. The bees are so fuzzy that it tickles me, as they buzz around. When I first saw the blossoms appearing I knew that I would soon have lots of friends to talk to.

The bees have finished pollinating the blossoms. Now that it is summer the days are longer and hotter, but I don't notice the heat at all. The farmer doesn't water my tree as much since I enjoy the heat and don't need as much water. The blossoms on my tree have turned into fruit, and we are getting greener and bigger each day. Soon we will be ripe enough to be harvested and taken away from our home sweet home.

A week or two later, I woke up to a sudden, gigantic banging. I could feel the vibrations flowing from trunk to my branches and down to me tips of my leaves. I was a bit shocked, but I realized that we were ripe for the picking. Our entire tree was banged and in a matter of minutes we were all knocked off and sent sliding down a big blue tarp. We were dumped into crates and shipped off to a processing plant. It was cool inside and very shady. My family and I enjoyed the first minute of our trip, but soon after we started, we were rolling all over each other.

Once inside the plant, we were dumped into a tub of freezing cold water. It was so cold that I shivered all over. I was put into a big container filled with a lye curing brine that helped me change from my wondrous green color to my new black shiny self. I was shocked that my skin had changed. Right after my second bath, I was put into a bin where I saw lots of similar sized and colored olives. We had a lot to talk about and then I saw a lot of shiny metal cans.

Suddenly, I was grabbed along with many others and stuffed into a can surrounded by cold brine. Then the lights went out and it became very dark and quiet. I felt that we were constantly on the move and after some time we came to a rest.

After many restful months, we felt ourselves being picked up from our resting-place and on the move again. A couple of hours later, we were at rest again and we sat all alone in our tin can. I was happier on the tree, but I knew I was here for a reason. Many days later, I finally saw the light. Some of us were chopped up for homemade pizzas. Others became toppings for a taco fiesta.

I finally realized that I was used everywhere in thousands of ways. Even as I speak, I am on a child's thumb watching a party, while four other olives are on the child's other fingers. We are dying for the chance to be eaten on such a happy occasion. Looking back on my life I now know why I was picked. I realize that many other olives are being propagated, nurtured, harvested, packed, sold and eaten just like me. I am proud to be an olive, because I know that I am an important commodity to California, just like apples and grapes.