On the edge of the forest stood a tiny plant. It was only six inches tall.

The ground around it was so cold and hard that it could not grow taller. It had stood there many years, sad and sorrowful.

“Grow and be beautiful,” said the forest sternly, but the plant did not grow.

“Do you not wish to grow?” said the blue jay. Then he began to tell the little plant how lazy and useless it was. But his words went into one ear and out of the other.

Still the plant did not grow.

“Grow! grow!” roared the wind. “Grow tall and straight. I will teach you to obey. Grow! grow!”

Then the wind lashed the tiny plant with its cold wings, and beat its branches to the ground. But the poor thing came near dying and did not grow at all.

“Do grow,” said the sun. “Grow and be beautiful. I will help you.”

Then the sun warmed the earth around the plant, and gentle showers fell on it from the clouds.

Now the little twigs began to grow, and the tiny plant became a beautiful birch tree, with green leaves and snow-white bark.

—Anna von RydingsvÄrd.