The fig tree proudly swayed its branches, completely covered with unripe fruits.
Looking up, he was surprised to find that a tree with a dense crown had grown nearby, on the branches of which there was nothing except leaves.
“Who gave you the right to block the sun and prevent my fruits from gaining strength?” - the fig asked the stranger menacingly. - Who are you? Answer!
“I’m an elm,” the neighbor answered timidly and politely.
- Oh, elm, you are up to your ears in leaves! — the dissatisfied fig mimicked him. - Where are your fruits? I would be ashamed to grow up uselessly and disturb others. Wait a minute! Soon my fruits will ripen, fall on the damp ground and sprout. Then we will bring you to life at once.
And indeed, the fig fruits were a great success - everything was as if it had been selected. But one day soldiers passed by. Seeing the fig, they greedily pounced on it, tore off the fruits and broke off the branches. The compassionate elm looked with sympathy at the subdued neighbor.
- Poor fig! It was in vain that you prophesied death for me, not knowing that a sad fate awaited you yourself. And I feel doubly sorry for you, because you suffered because of your own fruits.
The fig lamented for a long time, healing its wounds, and the good elm continued to grow, not envying anyone and not wishing anything bad.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru