Every year our house is blessed with an abundant supply of giant duhat (java plum). Never has our duhat tree failed to produce extremely sweet and dark pulpy fruits. I often wondered how could such a small tree create an overflowing amount of fruits! And not just quantity, but the quality is so excellent you can swear it tastes better than any market can sell. My dad gave me an explanation, but it was never direct. He just told me, "Ever wondered where I buried all our pets who died?" I remembered all the dogs and cats we cried over when the life left them, but we never asked our dad where he buried their bodies. I look at the duhat tree and from the trunk I trained my eyes to the ground, and though I couldn't actually see what's under, I imagined the roots trailing deep under and around the corpses of our pets long gone. It's almost sacrificial in the manner that the bodies each root has taken hold of has given life to the tree and the seasons of bounty it has endured. I eat the duhat fruit as a tribute to each of the pet our family has loved and taken care of.