As kids, we scared each other while passing old acacia, balete, or mango trees, picturing mythical creatures living inside. We'd hear elders say they never cut them down, afraid of curses or hauntings. Trees like the 50-year-old acacia in Villar City carry deep mysticism in Filipino folklore, serving as homes for beings like the kapre—a giant spirit puffing on a cigar.

Beyond the myths, old trees also symbolize history and resiliency. The heritage tree in Villar City, the 50-year-old acacia tree, is not just a tree, it is a symbolic tree that has weathered many years and challenges, standing as a beautiful beacon of resilience, hope, and a bright future for everyone. Its gnarled trunk is a testament to time's patient chisel, its bark etched like the wrinkles of an elder's face, whispering tales of storms weathered and decades endured.

In early 2023, just before Villar City's first holiday lights, experts spotted damage on the heritage tree—branches broken—so we were advised to bring in horticulturists for months of careful pruning, feeding, and nursing to bring it back. It revived, blooming stronger amid the festive glow, a real spark of hope.

That tree, standing 40 feet tall and 80 feet wide, is not just a Christmas centerpiece decor. Its story of recovery whispers to every struggling Filipino soul: Obstacles are not endpoints. They test our roots. With patience and grit, we rise taller. The story of that acacia tree is also my story: I have bent, but never broken, under life's fiercest storms. Growing up poor in Tondo, I helped my mother sell shrimps and fish in Divisoria to help feed my family and eventually lift us out of poverty.

The story of old trees is also the story of every Filipinos who endure unfair work conditions, low wages, and horrendous traffic so they can put food on the table and a glimmer of hope to their children’s future. It is the story of every Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) who withstand unscrupulous recruiters, the pain of leaving their own children in order to care for the children of strangers, and the loneliness of being in a foreign and unfamiliar land.

For us at Villar Land, the tree’s recovery became a quiet yet powerful symbol—a reminder of resilience, patience, and hope. It’s more than a tree; it reflects the community’s spirit and the journey of Villar City itself. It reminds us that growth requires patience, resilience, and intention. It also represents our renewed commitment to care for the landscapes that bring meaning to the community. Even in its restored state, the responsibility to protect the environment remains central to the estate’s guiding principles.

For Filipinos, that 50-year-old acacia tree stands as a profound symbol of a people's enduring struggle and ultimate victory over life's relentless obstacles, its gnarled roots clawing deep into unyielding soil much like a community gripping its homeland through storms of colonization, poverty, and natural calamities. Weathered by decades of fierce typhoons that have bent, but never broken, its sturdy trunk, it mirrors the resilience of Filipinos. Its sprawling canopy, now thick and sheltering, offers shade to generations, embodying hard-won triumphs—much like the victory of survival, where every scar from lightning strikes or droughts tells a story of revival, whispering that from adversity's trials emerges unbreakable strength and communal hope.

Looking at that magnificent heritage tree, which is now open for public viewing, I am reminded of one of the most important life lessons I learned from my mother: Each stumble, each heartbreak, each door slammed shut carves away the unnecessary, revealing a stronger core forged in hard work and perseverance. In the quiet aftermath of our deepest failures and the storms of unrelenting assault, we discover the raw beauty of resilience—a forge that tempers our spirits into something unbreakable and profoundly wise. They remind us that we're not defined by our falls, but by the courageous rise that follows, emerging not just as survivors, but as luminaries who light the way for those still navigating the dark.

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