I remember, since I was a little girl, a large mulberry tree casting its shade over the yard of our house in the village. A mulberry tree so big that you would need several people holding hands to wrap around its trunk. Its roots are buried deep beneath the asphalt, and its leaves are so dense and green that passersby always stop under its shade in the summer, taking a break from the heat. That mulberry tree stands literally in the middle of the road, and all the cars try to park beneath it so their drivers can return to cool, fresh cars maybe even with a few mulberries on the windshield after their swim in the sea. I don’t know much about the full history of that tree, but I know enough to build a story around it. My father says that the mulberry has been there since 1920. At our house in the village, we have one of those old black and white photos with people from another time, proving that this very tree has stood there since the black and white era of the 1920s. Of course, back then it was just a little tree, not the grand old one it is today. I was also little back then coming out into the yard with my morning milk, carefully choosing the chair with the most shade. I remember sitting there thinking about the story of my grandfather and that mulberry tree. My parents told me that when they built the road outside our home, the original plans showed that the tree would be cut down and replaced with asphalt. But my grandfather fought for that tree in court. He wanted it to stay alive. And that’s why it’s still standing today. That’s the story I know and I’ve never really wondered how exactly one goes about fighting for a tree in court. It’s enough for me to know that my grandfather stood up for it, and now the tree is still here. One day, while having a family meal under the mulberry tree, we had two friends from England visiting us. I remember my mother had been searching for days for a name for our little guesthouses. And while we were all sitting there, under that tree, someone suggested the name Moorea. That’s how our Moorea Country Houses got their name. If our values begin with our name, then it was worth giving our small family business a name full of meaning. A name that invites people to open their arms, share their stories, and turn small moments into great ones.

Gabriella Margeli