by 
Spring warmth to everyone!
Happy to share with you the next fairy tale “Old Apple Tree” that came to my notebook several years ago from Life.
My great grandfather lived in our Earth 110 years. He raised 5 kids alone living in a small village. He shared warm memories of his wife and mom from his heart to each of his kid’s hearts. They then shared this warmth with their own kids. This is why I know about him through many stories.
Many years ago I visited a very small village in the forest where only two houses were left.
I didn’t planed this visit but maybe Life gave me a gift to be there. . . .
It was early evening. I stopped my bike and walked, turning from the overgrown road, onto a narrow path.
On the porch of a small house sat a couple, husband and wife, both about 90+ years old. The sun was shining on their faces, emphasizing every wrinkle like paths of their life. I greeted them, they nodded and pointed to the porch. They did not ask why I was here and I just sat down. The sun was setting behind the tops of the trees and I looked at this miracle together with them. Quiet, rays of sun, and the aroma of apples from a large basket nearby.
I remember this meeting as well as my great grandfather. . . . They loved Nature and lived in unity with themselves and Nature.
Each of us has their own memories and each of us has golden seeds that we keep in our heart. These seeds give us beauty of Nature, light of Love and help us to see our way in Life clearly.
These are those same golden seeds of human’s values that shine in our hearts. This fairy tale is about. Welcome to Fairy Tale World!
Olga and Fairy Tale Team 😊
OLD APPLE TREE
Old Apple Tree rejoiced the next morning. . . .
She did not count how many there would be. She knew that she had very little left, but this feeling did not give her last days a sad tone.
“All mine,” she replied to Gray Crow, who asked about it in Winter. Gray Crow sat down on a branch and brazenly asked how much she, Old Apple Tree, still thinks about standing and whether will she be able to bloom this year.
There had been almost no apples on her in recent years, so Old Apple Tree did not hold resentment toward Gray Crow. She understood that it would not be long. Some of her branches were withered and her trunk, long torn by severe winter frosts, leaned to the ground.
Spring came in cold, with rains, and frosts. The real heat came very late. Her younger neighbors, some from overseas and very valuable varieties, did not even bloom.
Late in the evening, Old Master approached her. “You are getting old, just like me.” He kindly stroked her bark with wrinkled hands and slowly went into the house.
Old Apple Tree and Old Master were the same age, as far back as they could remember, they had grown up with each other.
The children loved them so much! They enjoyed Old Apple Tree’s delicious juicy apples, and because she was good to sit on, dangling their legs . . . o-oo, how many children’s secrets she knew! Children loved Old Master’s toys, which no one created better than he. . . .
When the first truly warm days began, Old Apple Tree gathered all her last strength and blossomed, feeling the fragrant spring air! Each bud from the still-living branches helped her, adorning Old Apple Tree with white-white blooms.
The flowers covered the blackened branches with a magnificent veil, and Old Apple Tree, just as in its youth, easily swayed them.
“The apple tree, Old Apple Tree has blossomed!” chattered the children.
Old Master was not surprised, he stroked her trunk and said thoughtfully, “You want to go, Belle . . .”
Old Master had taken much on his shoulders. He had been living alone for a long time, but he was not alone. Is it possible to be lonely if Kindness and Love live in the heart? That is probably, why children so loved his toys. Small, made of clay and then dried in the oven, the toys were always different from each other not only in appearance and color but also in sounds.
Old Master’s toys sang! The sounds were so beautiful, like singing spring birds, river water, bumblebees in the meadow, the wind in the leaves of the trees. . . .
Children, and even adults, sometimes brought the small lump of clay to their lips and a song poured out into the air. . . . Everyone sang according to their own, so the sounds were different. Some were bright, happy, and strong; some soulfully poignant and sad.
How glowing were the faces of those who sang together with their toy! Like a spring that is happy to quench thirst, they talked with their own. . . .
Lately, Old Master made a lot of toys and, without regret, he sincerely gave them to people. So, those who share the warmth from their hearts with others do not regret giving away their creations.
His heart was a little tired of the lived years and more and more was reminded of it, but Old Master was not worried. “Everything has its own time.”
Old Apple Tree was blooming, and she knew: for the last time. She would give delicious pink apples to Old Master and everyone who came to her.
Her apples with fading red stripes on the sides carried a special aroma and taste. Nobody knew what kind it was—there was no such variety in the whole neighborhood.
For so many years, in Autumn, Old Apple Tree shared the wealth she had, even as it was becoming more and more difficult for her.
This year she was losing all her strength and did not regret it. . . .
“You’ll wither completely! It would be better if you were to grow at your pleasure—you will live longer,” said Gray Crow, looking at her in disapproval. “Why do you give someone else the last one?” she asked Old Apple Tree, perched on a branch. Old Apple Tree didn’t know what to answer: to do otherwise, she couldn’t.
What you give sincerely carries Love, and awakens feelings with which the one, who considered himself weak, becomes stronger. Gray acquires color when you understand that next to everyday worries and difficulties, there is the greater Joy of Life. . . .
When you see the light of happiness in others’ eyes, is it possible to regret the warmth of your heart? Old Master did not regret it . . . even knowing it was the last.
Summer had given her days to Autumn. Wandering birds stretched into the Sky like thin ribbons. The Sun covered the neighbourhood with its gilding that shone, surprising with its richness of colors. Light cobwebs were flying in the air. Silence, and only occasionally the crystal cries of cranes were heard. . . .
Old Apple Tree sighed, looked at her still-living branches, and smiled.
Pink, fragrant apples hung on them! How many there were! Nobody could remember such majesty. But everyone understood: it was for a reason.
Even the children waited for the apples to ripen, not plucking them early, so that later, at a certain time, they could carefully hold in their palms the amazing miracle of inspiration.
Old Master had finished his last toy—a gift. The toy appeared quickly and somehow was especially beautiful. It always happens when there is Beauty living in the heart. Old Master will give it to the little boy with a bell voice who ran to him yesterday. He sighed—a little rest would be. . . .
He went to Old Apple Tree, sat down, and leaned his back to her.
Old Master and Old Apple Tree were together.
How much did they have left?
They did not count the time, did not think about what will happen tomorrow or whether tomorrow will be at all.
They watched the Sun drop down and were amazed at this miracle all over again. . . .
From the book “Happy Home Fairy Tales for children and adults”
https://olgaverasen.com/library/
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