—These trees... They are beautiful. Take a look at them, daughter —Helena María stared thoroughly at the honey-coloured leaves of the trees at the South of Velia. She had an old dendrology notebook in her arms. It had seen better days, so she had to pass its pages carefully. It described the different trees that decorated the villages and farms of Balenos.

     The woman was not used to see so many different kind of trees. In the Kingdom of Valencia, where she was born and spent most of her life, she did not see a variation of trees. Just palm trees.

Encouraged by her little daughter she proudly wore different autumn leaves in her hair united and tied with strings that made the leaves look as golden flowers.

     On several occasions Helena María lent her old book to her very educated child by her side so she could learn to read even better. Meanwhile the mother got closer to one of the trees to stroke the trunk to feel its roughness.

     Her face was expressionless as common, but she realized that day that she did not make a mistake leaving Valencia City with her daughter to live in Velia. She wanted to start a new life from scratch and give her daughter a safer and easier life. A life that she never met earlier.