Once upon a time, there was a pretty little fir-tree in a wood. It was in a good position, with sun and air, and tall companions grew around it. Yet, it did not heed the warm sun or the fresh air, nor notice the children who came to gather berries and admired it. The tree only sighed, "Oh! if I were only a great tree like the others!"
It took no pleasure in sunshine, birds, or clouds. In winter, a hare would spring over it, which annoyed it. After a few years, it grew tall enough that the hare had to run around it. "Ah! to grow and grow, and become great and old! that is the only pleasure in life," thought the tree.
Each autumn, woodcutters came and felled the tallest trees. The young fir-tree watched them being taken away and wondered where they went. In spring, it asked the swallows and the stork. The stork said he had seen such trees as splendid masts on ships sailing from Egypt. "Oh! if I were only big enough to sail over the sea too!" sighed the tree.
"Rejoice in your youth," said the sunbeams, but the tree did not understand.
As Christmas approached, smaller trees were cut down and taken away in carts. Sparrows told the fir-tree they were taken to warm rooms and adorned with beautiful things like candles, toys, and golden apples. "Am I too destined for such splendor?" the tree wondered excitedly, longing for Christmas.
It grew tall and beautiful, and at Christmas, it was the first to be cut down. The axe struck; the tree fell with a groan, sad to leave its home. It was taken to a grand house and placed in a tub decorated with greenery. It was adorned with sugarplums, gilt apples, nuts, hundreds of candles, dolls, and a gold star at its top.
"Tonight it will be lighted!" everyone said. The tree trembled with anticipation. When the candles were lit, it was a glittering spectacle. Children rushed in, danced around it, and took the presents from its branches. Then a story was told beneath it—the tale of Humpty Dumpty who fell downstairs and married a princess. The tree was astonished and thought, "Perhaps I shall fall downstairs and marry a princess too."
It expected more glory the next day, but instead, servants dragged it to a dark attic and left it forgotten. Days passed. It grew lonely until some mice came. The tree told them about its life in the wood and the glorious Christmas Eve. The mice thought it lucky. The tree told them the story of Humpty Dumpty, and the mice listened with joy, though later, some rats found the story dull and left.
Eventually, the mice left too. The tree was alone again, clinging to the hope of being brought out. One day, it was dragged out to the yard. "Now life begins again!" it thought joyfully. But its branches were withered and yellow. It lay among weeds and nettles. A child tore off its gold star and called it an "ugly old fir-tree."
The tree looked at the fresh flowers in the garden and remembered its youth in the wood, the merry Christmas, and the listening mice. "Too late! Too late!" it thought. "If only I had enjoyed myself whilst I could."
A servant came and chopped it into pieces. The pieces were burned under a great copper in the brew-house. As it burned, each sigh was like a shot, and the tree thought of summer days in the wood, winter nights under the stars, Christmas Eve, and the story of Humpty Dumpty. Then it was gone.
The children played on, and the youngest wore the gold star. And that was the end of the tree, and the story.