I was inspired to write Olive Branches Don’t Grow on Trees in large part because of my life-long passion for peace. In the following scene from this literary fiction novel, Silvia, the protagonist likens the war in Afghanistan, which is happening during the time frame of this book, to the war that’s been happening within her family. Inspired by the current and devastating war, I wrote a poem about war that I’d like to share.

The story of war

I dreamt I was a soldier

Death came every second

Bullets soared

like angry falcons

into shattered skin

Screams of deep pain

fell on crumbled ground

Lost limbs flew through a firelit sky

Bombs shook the earth

Investors cheered 

Journalists told the same old story

with no beginning and no end

from arrows to machine guns

People cried helpless tears

I woke and prayed hard

for a new story

called Peace

 

Scene from Chapter Seven of “Olive Branches Don’t Grow on Trees”

In effort to block the noise in her head, Silvia grabbed the TV remote that was on a small, dented end table next to her chair, and turned on the television. She was hoping for something comedic, like a Seinfeld or Simpson’s episode, but, instead, she got an update on the latest casualties in Afghanistan. This was even worse than the noise in her head. The war reminded her of her family, and her family reminded her of the war. Fucking war! Never ending fucking war! The thing that has always been and will always be. Arrows morphed into missiles. Sticks and stones turned into atomic bombs. No end and no beginning, just like the fighting that existed and would probably always exist within her family. 

She looked over at Vince, who looked like he wanted to jump into the television set and make everything right. She looked at Cosmo, who looked jaded, expressionless, and complacent as a turtle. He was the person who knew how it all really was and knew that their family was just like the rest of the world. Too late for saving. A family of divisions and alliances. A family with so many lines that had grown thicker with time and would just continue to thicken as time went on. Lines that could never be erased.

“When will this war ever end?” Vince said, his arms flying through the air.

“Whenever it does, you can rest assured that another one is right around the corner,” Cosmo said. 

“Yeah,” Silvia said, her eyes transfixed on the television set.

“But why?” Vince cried. “Why does it have to be that way?”

“Because it is,” Silvia said, who was suddenly talking like a realist.

“As long as people have been around, they’ve been fighting with each other,” Cosmo said, getting up from his chair. “I mean, think of the cavemen. They fought with each other over buffalo and women.” 

“As long as I can remember, our family’s been fighting too,” Silvia said.

“Well, that doesn’t mean we all have to go on fighting for the rest of our lives,” Vince said, surprising Silvia with his sudden concern for the well-being of their family.

“I tried, Vince,” Silvia said. “I tried to fix things in our family. Look where it got me.”

“Where?” Vince said.

 “Nowhere,” Silvia said. “No. I’m worse than nowhere. I’m defeated.”

“Trying to make peace in our family?” Cosmo said. “You’d have better luck in the Middle East.”

 

Grace Mattioli is the author of the Greco Family Trilogy books, including Olive Branches Don’t Grow on Trees, Discovery of an Eagle, and The Bird that Sang in Color. These books are available from all major online book sellers, including Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Apple Books.