The tree’s canopy once provided cool shade, and because it stood near the wall separating my yard from the sidewalk, some of its branches extended outward. Since it was so lush, I placed a stone table set and a hammock underneath, where I would relax with tea every afternoon.
But I eventually had to cut it down. Not because the tree was damaged, but because of the people on the other side of the wall.
Ever since the tree bore fruit, it seemed like anyone passing by felt entitled to take some. Some threw rocks while others used long poles to knock the fruit down.
Once, a rock they threw hit my house’s metal roof, startling me while I was resting in the hammock. Another time, I gently told some kids who were climbing the tree to stop, only to be scolded by their parents: “There are so many mangoes, you cannot possibly eat them all. Why make a big deal over a few?”
I did not mind sharing a few mangoes. What bothered me was how little people respected my boundaries. The tree was in my yard and was my property, not something for the public to take freely.
But no matter how many times I explained, nothing changed. Then I recalled a story about how in Japan, people sometimes cut down fruit trees because others kept asking for their fruits. I used to think that was extreme, but now I understand.
After seeing another group of young people climb the tree, I finally made the painful decision to cut it down. If people could climb it for mangoes, they could just as easily climb in to steal. And if someone fell while climbing, I might also be held responsible.
I only hope that we, as a society, stop treating this sense of entitlement as normal. I planted that tree, cared for it, and waited years for it to bear fruit. Even if its branches reached slightly into public space, the fruit was still the result of my effort and mine to give, not for others to take freely.
These days, some people feel so entitled that they think it is acceptable to take anything left unattended.
It often starts with “taking just a little” or “what harm can it do?” But greed rarely begins with something large; it grows from small acts repeated until they no longer feel wrong.
This kind of entitlement erodes discipline and respect in how we live and think. If everyone could learn to control themselves just a little, we would not need cameras or iron fences, only a shared understanding of where decency draws the line.
Do you think I did the right thing?
*The opinions were translated into English with the assistance of AI. Readers’ views are personal and do not necessarily match VnExpress’ viewpoints.
