_It is very foolish to wish to be different from the way we were
made. The wise course is to improve the gifts we have, and to be
content._
A little pine tree grew in the forest. It was not happy because it
did not have leaves like the maple, oaks, and other trees that grew
near.
“Why must I have only green needles on my branches?” it sighed.
“How I wish that I might have leaves of shining gold and be
different from all the other trees in the forest.”
Now, the angel of the forest heard the little pine tree, and that
night while it slept, its wish came true. The next morning the
little pine tree had leaves of shining gold, and was very happy.
“How beautiful I am!” it thought. “What must the other trees think
of me now!”
How foolish was the little pine tree! In the night a man came to
the woods. He picked every one of the gold leaves and put them in a
box.
“What shall I do?” cried the little tree. “I see now that it will
not do to have leaves of gold. If I could only have leaves of
glass, I should be happy again.”
The angel of the forest, who was listening, again granted the
little tree’s wish, and the next morning when it awoke its branches
were covered with leaves of clear, shining glass. Again the little
tree was happy, but not for long. After a while the sunbeams hid
and clouds gathered in the sky. Lower and lower they hung, and
by and by the rain came. How the wind did blow! The glass leaves
shook in the wind, and struck against the branches and against one
another. Soon the leaves were shattered, and little bits of glass
covered the ground. Not a leaf was left on the branches!
“Ah, me!” sighed the little tree again. “Perhaps I should not wish
to be better than the other trees. If I could only have green
leaves like theirs, I should be happy.”
A third time the angel of the forest granted the little tree’s
wish. When morning came it was covered with big shiny green leaves.
By and by a goat came along and ate every one of the nice juicy
leaves for his dinner.
“Dear me!” said the little tree. “Perhaps it is best after all
that I have only my green needles! If I could only have them back!”
While it slept that night the angel of the forest touched it and
the next morning it awoke to find long green needles covering its
branches. “I like the needles better than the gold or the glass,
or the green leaves,” said the pine tree. The little pine never
complained again. The birds were happy, too, for in the winter it
was the little pine tree that kept them safe and warm.