At a meeting of the trees a queen should be predestined. Among the first guests were the acacia and the willow in draped a silver dress. The acacia wore a magnificent floral dress until the election celebration and winked mischievously to the willow, since the poplar and almond appeared in their almost faded embroidered robes. The pine tree, all outstanding, asked about the biggest room. She might not live in a narrow tower like the cypress, she needs space and air! The cork oak, shy, old and gnarled, came together with her sister, the mighty oak.

She was not as restrained as her sister, she began straight away to brag and to flaunt: You need only to watch me, then you know who will be the queen of the trees, no other has the strength and my stature, we need only to look to the two "Würgeli", the apple and the pear tree, to give me the vote immediately. The apple tree blushed. The pear tree was no note and gradually corded tracks for buffet. Also, the cherry and walnut tree were shocked by the appearance of oak. The cherry tree so much that she was speechless with fear (the cherry tree was also beautifully dressed in a pale pink chiffon dress).

In the very end the olive tree joined, modest and with bending forward because of age. But only she gave friendly the work-worn hands. Only the oak was as if she do not see the hand and went further with her petty palaver with the almost equally large pine tree. A queen of the trees must be large, well-grown and at the same time on the ground. "As we two," whispered the oak to the pine tree, but loud enough that all could hear. "Why are we invited here," whispered the acacia to the nearby smaller trees, "if the oak already knows that she is the queen of the trees!" "Of course I know that," laughed the oak, "or do you want to be queen about dwarves?" A queen must always represent, and who could do that better than the oak? By saying this the oak easily closed her eyes, and stroked with one of her major branches slowly on the forehead. Someone must take the difficult and responsible task. At the same time the oak looked with tired eyes in the round until she continued the dialogue with the pine tree, not without to observe from sight angles the reactions of the audience.

The cypress, as always, straight and upright, called the participants at the long table. In order to a secret ballot, each was to fill a sheet with the name of their choice. The oak was the first, who threw her vote into the wooden ballot-box, not without to stop for a moment when inserting to enjoy the important moment. Lightning bolts - or was it the photographer? - accompanied the promotional scene. For the other it went faster.

At the end the cypress stride upright to the counting. Everyone was tense. She read the votes loud and clear: Olive ... olive ... olive ... At the third olive a branch of the oak tree broke and crashed to the ground, almost at the flabbergasted apple tree. Olive ..., olive ..., all were for the olive as queen of the trees. Only on one ballot sheet was: oak.

Election night was long and happy. Many toasts were proposed for the modest olive, the queen of the trees, to bear every year anew their valuable fruits for the people. But the boastful oak was ridiculed and from that day she had to produce her fruits are no longer for the people, but for the pigs.