Many
years ago, deep in a forest, a little fir tree grew in a small clearing.
All around it were huge trees, their tops reaching up towards the sky.
One day a truck with lots of men in it came along. It was time for the
tall trees to be felled and taken to the sawmill to be made into timber.
"All
these are to go," said the foreman. "Except this little one of
course."
That night
the little tree felt sad. "I am sorry that you are going to be cut
down," he said to the big trees. The trees rustled their branches.
"Don't
worry about us," they said. "Our tall, smooth trunks will be
used to make all kinds of interesting things. But you will just be
thrown away."
This made
the little tree even sadder. He gazed up at the night sky and thought,
"this is the last time I'll see the stars."
The next
morning the tall trees were felled but the foreman did not pull the
little fir tree up. Instead he dug very carefully around him and lifted
him out with a ball of earth around its roots.
Then he
gently placed the tree into the back of his truck and drove to his home.
Three little children ran out and laughed. "You've brought us a
Christmas tree!" they cried. "It's a lovely one!"
Today
the little tree stands tall and proud near the house, and at night his
branches almost seem to touch the stars.
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