Chapter Fifteen: Friday's Child.

Once upon a Friday, there lived a bonny child.
She was fair of face, and full of grace,
Loving and giving, and mild.
This little lassie, she ran to the woods to play
And guess what she found, no trees around,
For they all had been chopped away.
With tears of snow, full of sorrow,
Down the paths she wandered.
And there she saw, a woodcutter braw
Chopping an old gnarled oak.
Gentle words to him she spoke;
Her entreaties were made in vain
And still it groaned in pain.
Poor heart of gold, sweet tender soul,
She knew not what to do.
But her eyes lit up
For in that instant, she knew!
Off ran she, to her pretty house
And brought from hence her favourite blouse,
To and fro, bending down low
She gathered acorns dear
High and low, far and near
Many a seed she found.
Back to the deeper woods she went
Full of good intentions bound
Finding a spot, planting the seeds she'd got
She watered them with spring water clear
At that the gruff woodcutter,
To himself did mutter, 'That was useless, to be sure!'

'And pray dear sir, why should that be,
'For will a seed not soon grow into a tree?'

‘I tell ye lass, ye plant in vain,
For time will come, when nothin' remains.
Them trees'll all be taken down and chopped,
'Tis how life is, it canna be stopped.'

'I say, dear sir, so may it be,
But yet from each seed will grow a tree
And new acorns then I shall have
To plant and water, to grow as needs be
That the wood may yet grow lush as before
And that will make
All the difference or more.
So pray dear sir, now do you see
Why we must not
Lose faith entirely?'

And the braw woodcutter,He nodded his head,
For he knew the truth of what she'd said,
And he gruffly conceded to agree.