An olive tree and a fig tree were talking one winter day.
"I feel sorry for you," said the olive tree. "Every year you lose all your leaves and have to shiver through the winter with bare branches. But I stay green and beautiful all the year round. Still, I suppose we can't all be good-looking."
The fig tree was silent.
Later that day, the weather turned very cold. Great grey clouds filled the sky, and it was very still. It began to snow heavily.
All that night it snowed, and all the next day. Fields and hedges were thickly covered, and people had to dig paths from their houses to the roadside. The snow settled on the olive tree, drifting in little piles on the leaves, weighing down the branches so that they snapped and fell to the white ground below. The fig tree was more fortunate. She had no leaves to trap the snow, and it drifted harmlessly through the bare twigs.
When the thaw came, she was still standing, ready to put out her new spring leaves; but the olive tree lay broken, a twisted jumble of sticks and brown leaves.