When Little Fir was very small, she found absolutely everything interesting. Wherever she looked, something fascinated her. The most wonderful things of all were the changes in nature.
In summer, all the trees looked the same. She was just like everyone else, and they were all like one big, friendly family.
But then, when the heat faded and the rain began and the cold arrived, something started happening to her friends. Their leaves changed colour and became speckled. Little Fir could not get enough of looking at them: how lovely they were! And she kept waiting for her own prickles to become just as bright.
Yellow or red, or perhaps orange? That was what she dreamed of every evening as she drifted off to sleep, hoping her outfit would change. But morning came, and nothing had happened.
Oh! – sighed Little Fir sadly. She felt so sorry for herself, and she was so cross with her prickles, which simply refused to change. Instead, they grew firm and springy, and her branches became fluffy and spreading.
So Little Fir stayed glum until the strong winds began to blow. One morning she woke up and thought she had stepped into a fairy tale. The ground looked as though it had been painted with colours: yellow, red and orange, everything she loved.
Oh, how beautiful! Look! – she exclaimed to her tree friends.
Yes, yes – they replied slowly, as if they were falling asleep. – We know. This happens every autumn.
Autumn! So that's what it is called. Aaah-utumn, sang Little Fir, admiring the patchwork carpet of leaves. Then she noticed that these lovely leaves were parting from her friends' branches and drifting down, leaving the trees bare and vulnerable, their boughs and trunks exposed to every wind and shower.
Now Little Fir felt sorry for the trees. That was when she came to love the prickles she had scolded so recently. After all, it was her prickles, staying green, that protected and sheltered her delicate little body from the wind and the cold.
My prickles may not be able to change colour, and I may not have such splendour, but right now I feel warm and calm – Little Fir thought. – Yes, I am always the same, but I actually prefer it that way. Let it always be so!
Little Fir had no idea that the other trees admired her green twigs very much, for in winter they remind everyone of summer and warmth. They also smell wonderfully of pine needles and resin.
