The Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still Winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom. The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost. “Spring has forgotten this garden,” they cried, “so we will live here all the year round!” The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then, they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped all in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down. “This is a delightful spot;” he said, “we must ask the Hail on a visit.” So, the Hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice.
"I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming," mused the Selfish Giant as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden; "I hope there will be a change in the weather."
But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant’s garden she gave none. “He is too selfish,” she remarked as she passed. So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees.
― The Selfish Giant, by Oscar Wilde.
Artwork by Ritva Voutila.