There is a big tree in front of our building. It is very old. My grandfather says it is older than the building. In summer, the children play under it. In autumn, the leaves fall and the street is yellow. One day, a man comes with papers. "This tree must go," he says. "We need more parking." My grandfather is angry. He talks to the neighbours. Everybody signs a letter. Two weeks later, the man comes back. He does not have papers now. "The tree stays," he says. The children play under it again. My grandfather sits on the bench and says nothing. But he is happy.