Once upon a time, in a magical forest known as Harmonic Woods, there lived a cheerful sapling named Timmy. While his fellow trees sang lovely melodies with the gentle breeze, Timmy felt a touch of sadness. You see, no matter how hard he tried, no songs ever escaped his wooden lips.
As spring blossomed with colorful flowers and lively creatures, Timmy’s friends gathered to sing their joyous tunes. “Don’t be sad, young one,” said Grandpa Tree, who had witnessed many seasons. “Every tree will find its own voice.”
Timmy listened as the elder trees whispered enchanting songs of happy squirrels and graceful fawns. The oaks bellowed, the willows fluttered like a soft summer rain, but Timmy was silent as a snow-covered winter day.
“Perhaps in summer, when my branches grow, I shall sing too!” Timmy thought, filled with hope. But even when summer arrived, his branches remained small and unyielding.
Every day, the other trees sang sweetly and every night, Timmy whispered his dreams to the twinkling stars. His plaintive dreams floated into the night air. The fireflies listened, the crickets cried, but no songs ever came.
With autumn came the squirrels’ frolic and the deers’ dance. Timmy looked down sadly at the carpet of fallen leaves, longing to share in the joy. He tried once more to speak with a little gust of wind, but still, nothing came.
“Stay close, little sapling,” rustled the willows. “You shall learn in good time.”
And in the depths of his heart, Timmy wondered, “What could the forest ever need of me?”
Then one morning, the world was painted a dazzling white in a sparkling blanket of snow. Plastic icicles dangled from every bough and old Grandpa Tree shook his branches and boomed, “It is winter at last, my children!”
A little bird, blown off course, unfortunately found himself in Harmonic Woods. Exhausted, he nestled close to Timmy’s roots for warmth. As the cold grew, Timmy heard the sweet little voice of the bird softly crying, “Oh, how I tire! Please, snow, do melt away!”
Timmy sighed with sorrow, but suddenly something magical happened! His tiny sapling heart began to vibrate. Silvery tones poured forth from his heart and echoed throughout the forest. He sang louder and the tunes danced more joyously.
Other little birds, who were seeking shelter from the freezing breeze, heard Timmy’s enchanting song. They hovered and twirled in midair, and all night long, they hopped and flittered around the tiny tree.
“Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas to all in the woods!” laughed Timmy with glee. Each note rang out like a silver bell. His heart danced and he laughed for joy as he chirped and tinkled through the long night.
It was a magical winter’s night.
When at last the dawn arrived, a whole band of happy little birds snuggled cozily in Timmy’s branches. The icicles had melted away and sunbeams crept in between Timmy’s boughs.
“Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas to you and all the woods!” Timmy cried with delight. For you see, Timmy had at last learned the sweetest melody of the merry forest: to sing is a blessed thing, but to be a friend is better still.