Two small pine trees had been planted beside two very large ones. The small ones were so new they could barely hold their heads up, and when they tried to see the tops of Grandfather and Grandmother Pine Tree, it was almost impossible.
“Will we ever grow that tall?” they whispered.
“You will,” whispered Grandfather Pine Tree. “And when you do, you will see what I have seen every year of my life.”
He told them: first there will be snow, deep and white and very quiet. Then the first flowers will push through the cold ground and say good morning to the world. Then the leaves will follow the blossoms. Then the warm summer will come, and the children from the white house below will bring their books and old rugs and sit in your shade, because they’ll know you’ll keep them cool.
“Be strong and grow tall,” said Grandfather Pine Tree. “There is no better thing in the world than to be a pine tree. And most especially, to be a pine tree here — on this hill, above that garden, watching over a house where two children, a boy and a girl, are happy all the year round.”
The two small pine trees made up their minds to grow as quickly as they could.
