OUT in the forest stood a pretty little Fir Tree. It had a good place, with plenty of sunshine and air, and all around it grew many larger trees -- pines as well as firs.
But this little tree wished to become taller. It did not care for the warm sun and fresh air. When the children came to look for berries, they would often sit down by the little Fir Tree and say, "How pretty and small that one is!" As the tree wished to be taller, it made it very unhappy to hear that.
The years passed, and it grew taller and taller. In trees, one can always tell by the number of rings they have, how many years they have been growing.
"Oh, if I were only as tall a tree as the others!" sighed the little Fir, "then I would spread my branches far around, and look out into the wide world.
"The birds would then build their nests in my boughs, and when the wind blew I could nod just as grandly as the rest."