“Meanwhile, the old fig tree stood in the middle of the field alone and naked, resisting the cold and the winds of winter while its solid trunk stood motionless like a tower, its roots burrowed deep in the earth. "Had I been an artist I would have painted a natural tableau of the white field and the fig tree," he told himself, contemplating the beauty of nature before him, focusing on the tree. "We are like you. You sink your roots in the ground, you absorb water from now till spring when its time for you to sprout leaves and bear fruit. You have to be patient for time to take its course. Like you , we have been sinking our roots into the soil of the people for years and years. We suck up the people's rich, revolutionary experience. One day our leaves will sprout and our fruit will bud. Everything is good in its time. Our people's wisdom says so. Look, our leaves have already started sprouting. The time will come for us to harvest the fruit of our revolutionary action, so that the workers and those struggling will rule over their homeland.”