The Trees Under the Protection of the Gods

Long ago, the gods sat down to choose. Each of them wanted a tree to watch over. "The oak is mine," said Jupiter, king of the gods. "The myrtle is mine," said Venus. "The laurel is mine," said Apollo. Cybele took the pine, and Hercules took the poplar.

Minerva looked at the trees and frowned. Not one of them gave any fruit. No plums. No figs. No apples. "Why did you choose these?" she asked.

"So that no one can say we wanted the honor for the sake of the fruit," said Jupiter.

Minerva shook her head. "Let them say what they like," she said. "The olive is mine, and I love it for its fruit."

Jupiter looked at his daughter for a long moment. "My child," he said, "they are right to call you wise. If what we do is no use to anyone, there is no glory in it."