In a sunny little village, there lived a kind old gardener who grew the most wonderful apple trees anyone had ever seen. His orchard was full of trees with twisted branches reaching toward the sky, and every autumn they drooped with the weight of bright red apples.
One spring morning, the gardener called four children to his orchard. 'I have a gift for each of you,' he said with a twinkle in his eye. He held up four small apple saplings, each one no taller than the children themselves. 'Plant these, care for them, and one day they will give you the sweetest apples you've ever tasted.'
Hans grabbed his sapling and dug a quick, shallow hole. He tossed the little tree in and kicked some dirt over it. 'There!' he said, already running off to play. 'That was easy!' The poor little sapling stood crooked in the ground, its roots barely covered.
Greta took her time planting her tree. She dug a nice deep hole, placed the sapling gently inside, and patted the earth around it. 'There, little tree,' she said sweetly. But after that first day, Greta got busy with other things and never came back to water it.
Karl was very curious about his tree. He planted it carefully and watered it every day. But Karl was impatient. Every morning he would pull the tree up out of the ground to look at the roots. 'Are you growing yet?' he would ask, turning the tree upside down. Then he would push it back into the soil.
Little Liesel carried her sapling home like a baby. She dug a hole just the right size, mixed in good dark soil, and placed the tree inside with the greatest care. She pressed the earth firmly around it and gave it a long drink of cool water. 'Grow strong, little tree,' she whispered.
Every morning and every evening, Liesel visited her apple tree. She watered it when the soil was dry. She pulled the weeds that tried to crowd it. When a cold wind blew, she wrapped its thin trunk with cloth to keep it warm. She never once pulled it up to check the roots.
As summer turned to autumn and autumn to winter, three of the little trees began to wither. Hans's tree, planted so carelessly, dried up and fell over. Greta's tree, though well-planted, turned brown without water. Karl's tree, pulled up so many times, could never grow proper roots.
But Liesel's tree grew taller and stronger with every season. Its trunk grew thick and sturdy. Its branches reached out wide, covered in bright green leaves that danced in the breeze. The old gardener walked past and nodded with a smile. 'That tree knows it is loved,' he said.
When spring came again, something magical happened. Liesel's apple tree burst into bloom! Hundreds of pink and white blossoms covered every branch, filling the air with the sweetest perfume. Bees buzzed happily from flower to flower, and butterflies came to dance among the petals.
By autumn, the blossoms had turned into apples — dozens of beautiful, round, red apples hanging from every branch. Liesel picked the first ripe apple and took a big, juicy bite. It was the sweetest apple she had ever tasted! She filled her basket and shared them with Hans, Greta, Karl, and everyone in the village.
The old gardener gathered all four children under Liesel's beautiful tree. 'Now you see,' he said gently, 'a tree needs three things to grow: careful planting, faithful watering, and patience to let it grow in its own time.' Hans, Greta, and Karl nodded, and each one asked for a new sapling to try again — this time, they would do it just like Liesel.
