A lonely tree was growing among the hot sands of dead desert. Prickly sands covered the Wood. The Sun mercilessly burned its bark. But the Tree kept on living in spite of all.
Once the Hawk flied over the desert. The Hawk saw the Wood and sat on its branch. He looked around the desert and said:
You are strange Tree, why do you keep on living among these dead hot sands ? Who needs it?
You, — the Tree answered.
Me? — the Hawk was surprised. — I don‘t need you.
But if not me, — the Tree told, — you would have to sit on the hot sand instead of my branches. If not me, someone, seeing you sitting on the tree alone, would say that nobody needs you, too. And would ask you what do you live for. Sitting on my branches you, Hawk, think that I need you.
The Hawk thought about it and had to agree with the Tree. If there was no Tree, the hawk would feel himself alone and useless among this vast desert.
Once the Hawk flied over the desert. The Hawk saw the Wood and sat on its branch. He looked around the desert and said:
You are strange Tree, why do you keep on living among these dead hot sands ? Who needs it?
You, — the Tree answered.
Me? — the Hawk was surprised. — I don‘t need you.
But if not me, — the Tree told, — you would have to sit on the hot sand instead of my branches. If not me, someone, seeing you sitting on the tree alone, would say that nobody needs you, too. And would ask you what do you live for. Sitting on my branches you, Hawk, think that I need you.
The Hawk thought about it and had to agree with the Tree. If there was no Tree, the hawk would feel himself alone and useless among this vast desert.
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