The story of Mike Nitzani
It took me twenty-five trees to get to the Vatican, but I got there. A decade ago the Jewish National Fund asked me to give them a few years, representing JNF and their director in Italy. It was an opportunity to further the JNF's mission and also return to the roots of my grandmother's family who made their way to Italy before the Inquisition and the expulsion of the Jews from Spain. On my grandfather's side, we trace the family's presence in Italy back fifty generations. None of us had been back since my grandfather had moved the Genazzani family out from under Mussolini to Israel.
Trees permeate Jewish life. Our expulsion from the Garden of Eden is linked to the tree of knowledge. Moses experienced God from the midst of a burning bush. We call our Torah a tree of life. Judaism holds trees in such holy regard that from Talmudic times it has been forbidden to destroy trees growing even on one's enemies' lands. Our holiday, Tu B'Shevat, is known as "the new year of the trees" and is celebrated in Israel each year by tree plantings all over the countryside.
When I arrived in Rome I lived in a neighborhood of the city called Trastevere. It is the oldest neighborhood in Rome apart from the Emperor's City and it borders the Vatican state. Riding to and from work each day on my moped, I would pass by the Vatican and recall the centuries of enmity and anti-Semitism stretching back two thousand years.
On one of my rides I had an inspiration. Call it a message from above if you like. Why not find a way to use trees to make a connection with the Vatican? Something along the lines of literally extending an olive branch. The Vatican had not yet recognized Israel; there were no diplomatic relations between it and my country. I decided in a moment that during my stay in Rome I would do my best to make an approach between the two powers...
