A TRIBUTE TO NORDIC NATURE

Many years ago, a curious mouse lived underground with her family. Her greatest wish was to leave their safe burrow and explore the world on her own. She asked her family:

“No,” said her brother, “The cat will catch you.”
“No,” said her father, “The fox will catch you.”
“No,” said her mother, “The bird will catch you.”

Then, Grandma Mouse hobbled out of her room. She pointed her cane at the curious mouse and said: “She will never learn to outsmart those savage beasts if we don’t let her go! We must trust that we have raised her well.” And with those words, they let the curious mouse go out into the world.

Rumour has it, she became the cleverest mouse of all, because she always had faith in her ability to overcome even the most savage of obstacles.

There once was a little acorn. It was much littler than the other acorns, but it had much bigger dreams. It dreamed of growing up to be a tall and mighty oak. The other acorns poked fun at the little acorn and said:
“You are too little. You will never become tall and mighty.”

One day, a kind squirrel saw the little acorn being teased and decided to help. The squirrel dug a hole and buried the little acorn, hoping it would grow soon. Time passed, and nothing happened.

But then, one spring day, the little acorn sprouted, and over time, it grew into an impressive oak tree. Now, it provides shelter for insects and animals, and shade for weary travellers. And every year when it bears acorns of its own, it feels like the happiest oak in the world

Once upon a time there was a little sparrow. She was cosy and warm in the nest, admiringly looking down, watching all the fast animals running crisscross on the forest floor.

Though she was still a nestling, the little sparrow was full of curiosity and zest for life dreaming of one day to be as fast a runner as the deer, the squirrel or perhaps as speedy as the hare.

In all her eagerness, a short moment of abstraction, the sparrow suddenly fell out of the nest. All her life, she had been dreaming of speed. But a vertical drop in thin air was way too fast.

Bump! The little sparrow hit the ground. Dazed after the fall, she saw that she had damaged her legs. ”Oh no, now I will never be running as fast as the other animals in the forest,” she cried.

In her despair, the little sparrow looked to the sky and saw a flock of birds flying high above the crowns of the trees. She slowly fluttered her wings and flew away.

Her small legs were still in severe pain, but she forgot all about it when she joyfully realised that she, faster and faster, passed both the deer and the squirrel – and finally the hare.

It was a lovely summer day a long time ago in the hilly countryside. A perfect day in the joyful life of the old basket – picnic time with all the children in the village.

The old basket loved the feel of the unspoiled nature in the forest. In fact, he just loved being a picnic basket. Now, aging and with worn handles causing pain, he still felt great pride when trusted the treasure of soft drinks, freshly baked bread, homemade sausages, and the loveliest cakes.

Crack! Suddenly, one handle broke and on the way back to the village he got thrown away, left in the bushes. All summer passed. Winter came. The basket just lay there, wet and cold on the ground. He was about to lose hope when he was found at last and picked up by an old lady collecting firewood.

She took good care of him – fixed the handle, gave him a good scrub – and the basket was as good as new, ready to enjoy his old age by the fireplace in the warm and cosy cottage of the old lady in the forest.

And on the daily walk, when getting filled with wood, the basket now more than ever enjoyed the unspoiled nature in the forest he loved so much.

On a bitterly cold autumn day long ago, a brutal storm swept through the forest, tearing all the leaves off the trees. Almost all of them. The small oak leaf at the top of the tallest tree in the forest remained clinging.

It sat there all alone, shivering, while the other leaves lay safe and warm on the ground, creating the most beautiful pictures on the forest floor. “If only I could soon break free and descend,” it begged.

Winter passed. The little oak leaf had almost given up all hope of coming down from the tree when a gentle south wind on the most glorious spring day loosened it. Finally, the oak leaf descended, and it just had time to think: ‘Now, at last, I will be part of the beautiful pictures on the forest floor.’

At that moment, a little girl cycled along the forest path. Instead of hitting the ground, the oak leaf landed in the girl’s bicycle basket. The girl immediately fell in love with the beautiful copper-colored oak leaf – it had a much warmer glow than all the other leaves in the forest.

She took it home, dried it, and put it in a fine frame. And it is quite true that the little oak leaf became the most beautiful picture on the little girl’s wall, where it sat sheltered from storm and cold for many years to come.

Once upon a time, there was a lost soul who, filled with unhappy love, had carved a heart into the sturdy bark of an ancient oak deep within the forest.

Despite its painful origin, the little heart beat with joy and kindness, and all the animals in the forest loved to come and visit. Because the heart in the oak tree was something truly special. It could sense the sadness in lonely souls. And when it opened up and began to beat stronger, the visitors immediately felt better.

Time passed, and more sorrowful souls passed by. Each time, the little heart opened up and filled them with love and comfort. But one day, the heart began to feel empty and weak.

An old and wise owl flew down to the heart and said, “Even though a story begins unhappily, it can still end happily. Love is beautiful to give, as you already know. But you must also remember to receive love from others – and love yourself. Only then can you pass on true love.”

The little heart now beat even more powerfully than before and could give even more love to everyone because it remembered to also fill itself with love.