“I will never be able to become as big and strong as you,” said the newly planted shrub to the centuries-old birch tree in front of it. He added: “I didn't choose to be placed here, on this steep terrain exposed to the mistral.

The birch smiled with a light rustle of leaves but did not respond.

Evening fell; the nocturnal animals, curious about the new tree, arrived, arranging themselves along the trunk and branches and around the roots. The shrub felt further annoyance, protesting vigorously to push them away.

The birch still stood watching.

In the middle of the night a roe deer arrived with a wounded cub. Mother lay down inside a hollow in the birch tree. The little boy, although limping, moved and placed himself under the shrub he thought was best suited to his height.

The birch then said: “We can reject the challenges around us or face them. The merit lies not in being up to par or not but in being able to find one's space."

The shrub sighed and understood that growing means first and foremost welcoming.