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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.
