The chestnut and the acorn
There was once a big forest in which all the trees were friends.
One day, a chestnut and an acorn fell to the ground, just a few inches from each other. They soon became, friends, and decided to grow together. They had their first buds at the same time, compared their first leaves in spring, and shared their grief in autumn. They grew side by side, and they were the closest friends in the world. All the trees around them were very big, so high that the two friends could not speak to them. But they didn't care, as they had each other, and were happy with it.
One day, their intimate conversation led them to talk about their secret dreams.
"When I get older, I want to grow as tall as all the other trees in the forest, so I can become friends with everyone. I also want to have the most beautiful leaves in the entire forest, a crown with shades of green so pretty every bird will come to make his nest between my branches." The chestnut confessed.
"When I get older, I want to grow into the biggest tree in the entire forest. I want to be taller and larger than everyone, so all the other trees will look up to me and admire me. I also want to grow high enough to speak to the sun, as it is the most beautiful being of all." Answered the acorn.
Happy they could trust each other and share such intimacy, the two young trees decided to support each other so they could make both their dreams come true. Soon, the young chestnut-tree started to grow many leaves, large and shiny green. Some were prettier than others, but each year his crown became more beautiful. The young oak also followed his dream, and grew higher and higher. Since their sizes were so different, it had become harder for them to speak, but the two friends didn't worry: the chestnut-tree could see his friend's trunk become thicker and thicker, and each time the oak looked down, he met with the beautiful sight of his friend's ever-changing crown. They knew they were both reaching their goals, and it made them both very happy.
Years passed, and the oak finally broke through the forest's ceiling. For the first time, he could see the clear sky, and he was filled with pride: his dream was at hand's reach. Sadly, he couldn't look at his friend anymore, as the other trees blocked his way, but he felt his friend look on him, and he knew he too was doing his best. That thought reassured him, and gave him the motivation to continue. But he knew he'd still have to grow before he could reach the sun. So he spread his crown as wide as he could, and grew.
He became bigger, and bigger, and bigger. The clouds seemed to come closer every day.
Finally, when he felt the wind was so strong it could blow him over, he looked up into the sky, and shouted:
"Sun! Beautiful Sun! You are the most beautiful of all. Look at how much I've grown. I was but an acorn on the ground, but I'm now standing in front of you. Please hear my call!"
But the sun didn't answer.
So the oak started to grow again. Finally, when he felt the cold clouds tickling his branches, he looked up again, and shouted:
"Sun! Beautiful Sun! You are the most beautiful of all. Look at how much I've grown. I was but a shrub, trembling in the wind, but I'm now standing in front of you. Please hear my call!"
But again, the sun didn't answer.
So the oak continued growing. His crown grew so wide he couldn't see the land anymore.
Finally, when he was so high he could barely breathe, he looked up and panted:
"Sun! Beautiful Sun! …"
But a sudden pain at his base interrupted him. The pain grew fast as cold steel dug into his flesh. Confused as he couldn't see what was happening, the oak raised his voice again:
"Sun! Beautiful Sun! ..."
But again, he was interrupted. This time, it was an earth-shattering creak. And before he could say one more word, the sky above him spun and the Sun was gone.
The oak was falling. He reached the ground loudly. Desperate, he looked up, but all he could see was a cloud-covered sky. The Sun was gone. But something felt out of place. He knew the ground he was now lying on, as he had lied there long ago, with his friend. But never had the sky been so clear.
The lying tree looked around him, and understood. All the trees were dead. They stood there, raising their naked branches like famished hands to the sky. The light that his crown had for too long kept for himself was now shining down on their dead fingers, and the oak was filled with guilt. He desperately looked around, trying to find his friend. But he had been cut down, and his vision was slowly getting blurry. His consciousness was fading.
He spotted him right before everything went black. The chestnut-tree was standing right by his side, like he always had. He was the smallest tree in the forest. His bark had turned grey, and not a single leaf grew on his dead branches. A lonely, unfinished bird-nest was lying on top of the rotting wood, the only crown the chestnut would ever get.