It
was spring and the apple tree put out its
bright little flowers. They were so lovely that even the princess was much
impressed.
She cut off some branches and arranged them in a valuable vase in a
palace hallway.
The apple branch was very proud of this tribute to its
beauty. Through the windows it could see the flowers in the garden and the
meadow, and it pitied
them greatly for their foible, especially
the humble dandelion, because with one puff children could blow away their seeds, suing
them naked and defenceless. He pitied them because their destiny was so different from his. At the
same time, he was proud of his own
shapeliness, his beauty, and his rich
vase in the hall. It did not occur to him
that the sun shone on the poor
dandelion just as brightly as it did on him.
One day, however, the princess brought in a
dandelion to paint, and put it in the same vase as the flowering apple branch. Beside the delicate beauty of the meadow flower, destined to be
blown away by the wind, the white flowers of the apple grew
a bit red, with shame.
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