And yet, on that very spot, another three flourished under the desert ground. It was stronger, bolder, more beautiful than all the trees in the city. No one dared to touch it, nor rest on it, for some have believed that impurities will kill it, for it could not stand another sin on the city—and there was a legend, that if Jerusalem was ever to be sacked again, the tree will surely die in a stranger's land.
Time passed, and the tree grow stronger and bolder and even more beautiful. But the people beside it began to carve the tree to craft hideous idols and embarrasing poles. Men and women began to fill themselves with lustful passions, and their seed began to rot. A wealthy merchant thanked Asherah for his wonderful harvest through an orgy. Prostitutes took its leaves and covered their clothes with it. Then a black ring filled the tree's hollow chest. It was called, Idolatry.
Time passed, and the tree kept growing stronger and bolder and even more beautiful. But it heard a horrible cry, one that was full of pride and neglect. "We want a king!", they said. "We want a king!" "We want to be like the rest of the people!" The prophet tried to reason with his people to no avail—as he was warned. His voice trembled with his own frustration as he explained the responsibilities, and the people's obstinate requests hurt the tree so much that a sticky sap that looked like tears flew down its chest as they took from its bark to craft the seat for the king. A new ring appeared beside Idolatry: It was called, Conformity.
Some more time passed, but the people kept clinging their hopes on other gods, and new rings kept appearing at its core. One was named Imprudence because of its leaders' lack of wisdom in governing the land. Another was called Indignity as the people sabotaged their love of the land. That same week, appeared Shame with men, women, and children helplessly hiding from their God. More and more black rings encroached the roots, encroached, the leaves, encroached the tree with sorrow. What were they doing...Why would they hurt something as precious as themselves?