The missing “up” there makes me think that your friend is, in fact, a tree near a monastery, and somehow, through the power of friendship, you are able to speak with this tree, and he tells you stories of the olden days when the children would play and the nuns were kind, but firm.
A friend of mine grew near a Catholic monastery which fabricated wafers. The nuns gave the offcuts to the children, and they ate them with Nutella.
The missing “up” there makes me think that your friend is, in fact, a tree near a monastery, and somehow, through the power of friendship, you are able to speak with this tree, and he tells you stories of the olden days when the children would play and the nuns were kind, but firm.
I prefer your version, it’s now the headcanon of my and my friend’s lives.