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 the 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 insignificance, especially the humble dandelion, because with one puff children could blow away their seeds, leaving them naked and defenceless.
He pitied them because their destiny was no 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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