Once upon a time, there was a little fir tree growing on a large farm with thousands of other trees. In their neat rows, each planted at an equal distance from the next, they all looked exactly alike, except for our little fir.
Indeed, one day when he was still very young, a marmot had nibbled his tender buds before the farmer’s dog had chased him away from the farm. Thereafter, despite all his efforts to catch up with the others, little fir always remained… smaller. It was denser, because the groundhog’s size had doubled the number of its branches, but it was smaller nonetheless.
Rumor of Coronation
Rumor had it that the most beautiful fir would one day be crowned King of the Forests. So, every year, each of the fir trees made an effort to be taller and more beautiful than the others, but they all reached the same height… except for our little fir, which was always a little shorter than the others.
One summer, the farmer visited the field with his daughter and began pruning all the fir trees, reducing their growth for the year by two-thirds. At last,” thought the little fir, “I’m going to be as big as the others! But, to his dismay, the farmer also pruned the smallest tree… which remained the smallest of all.
The following year, the fir trees produced twice as many branches to make up for the previous year’s loss, but the farmer and his daughter came by a second time and pruned them again.
Once again, the little fir thought this would help it catch up with the others, but in the end, the farmer pruned it too, and it remained the smallest fir on the farm.
The following summer, the trees grew more vigorously than ever. Each pruned branch produced two more, making them particularly dense.
When the farmer visited the farm one day with his daughter, he was heard to say that he had never seen such beautiful fir trees. And this message spread from root to root, until every fir knew it. Each took pride in being the most beautiful of the world’s fir trees, and looked forward to being chosen “King of the Forest”. But the little fir, denser and even more beautiful than all the others, despaired, because he was always the smallest.
Proud but Sad Little Tree
Autumn came and the farmer visited the field, saw in hand. With the help of his daughter, he cut down each of the fir trees and placed them in his truck. But when he got to the little tree, he said: “What am I going to do with this one? It’s true that it’s the most beautiful and the fullest of all the fir trees, but it’s still too small to harvest!” The young girl tugged on her father’s sleeve and whispered something in his ear. “You’re quite right, my daughter,” murmured the farmer, and they both left the farm, their truck loaded with fir trees.
Imagine the little fir’s despair! All his friends had left, no doubt for the selection of the “King of the Forest”, and he was left alone in the field. All winter long, he felt sadder and lonelier than ever. Then spring came and the fir tree, almost in spite of itself, grew in all directions. With his “brothers” no longer there to cast a shadow over him, he grew taller and fatter than ever. Rarely had we seen such a dense, full fir!
One day, the farmer and his daughter came into the field and planted row after row of tiny fir trees all around our little fir. When their roots reached his, the baby firs said, “You’re so beautiful, so full: you’re surely the king of the forest!” The little fir was proud, but sad nonetheless, because he knew he hadn’t been chosen “king of the forest” along with the others.
Happy at Last!
But in winter, the farmer and his daughter came into the field again with a saw and cut down our little fir tree, taking it home with them. They placed it in the place of honor in the middle of the living room, in a bucket of water, and the whole family surrounded it. One by one, they put golden garlands, silver balls and lights in the little tree. What’s going on?” thought the little tree. Why are they decorating me like this?” Then the family stepped back to admire the tree in its entirety. “Really,” exclaimed the farmer’s wife, “this is the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen!” And the whole family agreed. The little tree had never been happier!
Then came Christmas Eve. The family sat down hand in hand in front of the little fir tree, all garlanded and lit up, with colorfully wrapped boxes at its foot, and began to sing: « O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree…”. And at last the little fir realized that it was true, that he had been chosen “King of the Forest”, the highest honor for a fir tree. He was ecstatic!
Life Is Not a Fairy Tale
In a fairy tale, we would have stopped here, with a: “(…) and he lived happily ever after and had many little fir trees…”. But this is no fairy tale. A few days after Christmas, the little fir began to feel ill. Give me some water!” he thought, “I’m dying! But all the water in the world wouldn’t have been enough. The sad fact is that Christmas trees live their whole lives just for a few glorious days. And then it’s over.
But was it really the end for our little tree? Not at all! When his decorations were removed, father and daughter took him out into the yard and set him on fire. Its withered branches soon caught fire, but the little fir felt nothing, for its life was already over. Soon he was nothing but a handful of ashes. And the father and daughter took the ashes to the field where the baby fir trees were growing, laying them at their feet. And, in the spring, the ashes of our little fir tree were absorbed by the roots of the baby fir trees, enabling them to grow strong and tall and become beautiful “kings of the forest” in their turn.
And so it is in real life. No, it’s not always a fairy tale, and no, we don’t always know why we’re here on Earth, but each of us shines in our own way. And when we do our best in life, the mere fact that we’ve existed ensures that the next generation will be stronger, wiser and happier!
Merry Christmas!
Larry Hodgson published thousands of articles and 65 books over the course of his career, in both French and English. His son, Mathieu, has made it his mission to make his father’s writings accessible to the public. This text was originally published in Le Soleil on December 27, 1997.
Beautiful story ! Thank you !
Thank you so much for sharing such a beautiful story.
What a moving story. Thank you – and Merry Christmas
Loved your story. Thank you. Joanne Strasburg Ohio