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Sostieni la campagna per salvare "l'Olivo Bianco della Madonna" dall'estinzione e ripiantarlo in ogni luogo sacro o a grande valenza sociale, come simbolo di aggregazione, rinascita e fede.

In questi anni ne abbiamo donati parecchi alle comunità locali, alle parrocchie ed alle associazioni per poter effettuare una piantumazione mirata. Adesso le richieste di piantumazione sono aumentate a dismisura ed abbiamo la necessità di sostenere le spese per l'acquisto delle numerose piantine di Olivo Bianco.

Aiutaci anche tu, con una piccola donazione, a continuare la campagna di piantumazione e di rinascita. Un piccolo contributo, un piccolo gesto di solidarietà ci aiuterà ad aumentare il numero di questi magnifici alberi!

Support the campaign to save the "White Olive of the Madonna" from extinction and replant it in every sacred place or place of great social value, as a symbol of aggregation, rebirth and faith.

In recent years we have donated several to local communities, parishes and associations in order to carry out targeted planting.

Now the requests for planting have increased dramatically and we need to bear the costs for the purchase of the numerous White Olive seedlings.

Help us too, with a small donation, to continue the planting and rebirth campaign. A small contribution, a small gesture of solidarity will help us increase the number of these magnificent trees!

CALABRIA, THE SOUTHERNMOST REGION OF the Italian peninsula, is the birthplace of some of the world’s most well-known myths, such as the terrifying tale of Scylla and Charybdis immortalized in the Odyssey. Yet one local curiosity remains in obscurity. Wander through the gardens of Calabrian churches or abandoned farmland in late autumn or early winter and you may glimpse it—a tree that appears to be strung with pearls. But this tree is no myth.

Archaeologist and native Calabrian Dr. Anna Maria Rotella first heard about the Olivo della Madonna, an ancient white-olive cultivar, in 2017, while working at an archaeological excavation site in Catanzaro. Due to their stunning appearance, locals have long called them the Olive Trees of the Madonna.

Despite growing up in olive-rich Calabria, Rotella had never seen such a tree, and her curiosity was piqued. While on-site, one of the workers told her unfortunate news from his hometown nearby: their last Olivo della Madonna had been lost to a fire. Hearing this, Rotella became determined to discover if other such trees still existed.

“I called everyone,” Rotella remembers. “I refused to accept that these trees had all disappeared.”

Calabrian landowners, olive-oil makers, and locals all told Rotella about where the trees once were, along with colorful and sometimes confusing stories. But eventually, she collected enough confirmed sightings to begin mapping the locations of the trees still standing.

“I called everyone,” Rotella remembers. “I refused to accept that these trees had all disappeared.”

Calabrian landowners, olive-oil makers, and locals all told Rotella about where the trees once were, along with colorful and sometimes confusing stories. But eventually, she collected enough confirmed sightings to begin mapping the locations of the trees still standing.

“I called everyone,” Rotella remembers. “I refused to accept that these trees had all disappeared.”

Calabrian landowners, olive-oil makers, and locals all told Rotella about where the trees once were, along with colorful and sometimes confusing stories. But eventually, she collected enough confirmed sightings to begin mapping the locations of the trees still standing.

“I called everyone,” Rotella remembers. “I refused to accept that these trees had all disappeared.”

Calabrian landowners, olive-oil makers, and locals all told Rotella about where the trees once were, along with colorful and sometimes confusing stories. But eventually, she collected enough confirmed sightings to begin mapping the locations of the trees still standing.