Once upon a time, a little fir tree grew in a forest, surrounded by bigger trees. The wind, the sunshine, squirrels and hares ran brushed against it. Children came into the forest to gather berries and nuts.
But the little fir tree was unhappy and wished he was tall like the other trees around him. It grumbled and did not notice all the beautiful things: the sunshine, the clouds, the breeze. When winter came, the white snow lay shining all around, and even slipped off its branches. As the seasons passed, the fir tree grew a little taller.
“The best thing in the world is to be tall and old,” thought the fir tree, “Then I’ll be strong and powerful.”
It watched men carrying axes come into the forest to cut down trees. The branches of the trees were cut off and then everything was loaded onto carts pulled by big, strong horses. They trundled away and were never seen again.
Then at Christmas time again, the men would come with their axes and carts. This time, they would not lop off the branches of the trees. The trees were put into the carts and taken away.
The swallows said, “They take them into their houses and there they put beautiful decorations and candles on the trees. They look gorgeous!”
“How I wish I too could be one of them,” wished the little fir tree.
Everyone told the fir tree, “It’s better out here in the forest than anywhere else. You should be enjoying this.” But the fir tree was still discontented and sad.
It was not little any more. When Christmas came again, the woodcutters returned. This time, they felled the fir tree. It felt excited as they loaded it into a cart and took it away into a yard where hundreds of other trees stood. Every day men came and took away one tree after another, while the fir tree waited patiently.
One day, a man came and picked out the fir tree. It was carried off to a house and thought, “Now I’ll know the best! I’m so important!”
It looked at all the lights and warmth, the chairs and the tables and pictures in the house. The fir tree was stood up in a large tub in a room. It waited excitedly as children came and began to decorate him with baubles, candies, candles, ribbons, tinsel and then put a star on top.
It felt proud and happy. But as the days passed, the weight of all the decorations became tiring. One day, many people came and music began to play. They sang and danced. They gave one another gifts.
“This is all so noisy,” thought the tree remembering his life in the forest, “Not like the forest where I could hear the whisper of the wind, the music of birds and the splashing of waves in the stream. I do miss the forest.”
Finally, all the celebrations were over. The people had gone. The next morning, a lady came and took off all the decorations and put them into little boxes. Then a man came and pulled the tree out of the tub.
It was dragged into the backyard and flung out. At first, it was happy being back in the sunshine, with the breeze touching his branches and leaves. But soon it found that its branches were shedding the dry and brown needles.
It looked sadly at the bare branches. “How foolish I was!” it sighed, “I thought being older and taller I would be very powerful and happy. I should have enjoyed the sunshine and the wind, the snow and those little creatures in the forest!”
The next morning, a young man came and chopped it up into firewood. It sighed as the fire licked it away and the tree turned to ashes.
