She was old. Haunched down by the ground, she was quiet. Her fingers selected the argan tree nuts one by one. The nuts were brown and dry and lifeless. But inside lay the pale, smooth kernels that would give birth to something precious: coveted Moroccan argan oil.
She didn't stop. She was slow but she was purposeful.
I left her then. But I took her message with me.
Patience. Yes, patience. Please, patience.
Don't falter. Keep trying.......The elixir is within your reach.