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                     FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

                             THE STORY OF A MOTHER

                           by Hans Christian Andersen



    A MOTHER sat by her little child; she was very sad; for she feared

it would die。 It was quite pale; and its little eyes were closed;

and sometimes it drew a heavy deep breath; almost like a sigh; and

then the mother gazed more sadly than ever on the poor little

creature。 Some one knocked at the door; and a poor old man walked

in。 He was wrapped in something that looked like a great

horse…cloth; and he required it truly to keep him warm; for it was

cold winter; the country everywhere lay covered with snow and ice; and

the wind blew so sharply that it cut one's face。 The little child

had dozed off to sleep for a moment; and the mother; seeing that the

old man shivered with the cold; rose and placed a small mug of beer on

the stove to warm for him。 The old man sat and rocked the cradle;

and the mother seated herself on a chair near him; and looked at her

sick child who still breathed heavily; and took hold of its little

hand。

    〃You think I shall keep him; do you not?〃 she said。 〃Our

all…merciful God will surely not take him away from me。〃

    The old man; who was indeed Death himself; nodded his head in a

peculiar manner; which might have signified either Yes; or No; and the

mother cast down her eyes; while the tears rolled down her cheeks。

Then her head became heavy; for she had not closed her eyes for

three days and nights; and she slept; but only for a moment。 Shivering

with cold; she started up and looked round the room。 The old man was

gone; and her child… it was gone too!… the old man had taken it with

him。 In the corner of the room the old clock began to strike;

〃whirr〃 went the chains; the heavy weight sank to the ground; and

the clock stopped; and the poor mother rushed out of the house calling

for her child。 Out in the snow sat a woman in long black garments; and

she said to the mother; 〃Death has been with you in your room。 I saw

him hastening away with your little child; he strides faster than

the wind; and never brings back what he has taken away。〃

    〃Only tell me which way he has gone;〃 said the mother; tell me the

way; I will find him。〃

    〃I know the way;〃 said the woman in the black garments; 〃but

before I tell you; you must sing to me all the songs that you have

sung to your child; I love these songs; I have heard them before。 I am

Night; and I saw your tears flow as you sang。〃

    〃I will sing them all to you;〃 said the mother; 〃but do not detain

me now。 I must overtake him; and find my child。〃

    But Night sat silent and still。 Then the mother wept and sang; and

wrung her hands。 And there were many songs; and yet even more tears;

till at length Night said; 〃Go to the right; into the dark forest of

fir…trees; for I saw Death take that road with your little child。〃

    Within the wood the mother came to cross roads; and she knew not

which to take。 Just by stood a thorn…bush; it had neither leaf nor

flower; for it was the cold winter time; and icicles hung on the

branches。 〃Have you not seen Death go by; with my little child?〃 she

asked。

    〃Yes;〃 replied the thorn…bush; 〃but I will not tell you which

way he has taken until you have warmed me in your bosom。 I am freezing

to death here; and turning to ice。〃

    Then she pressed the bramble to her bosom quite close; so that

it might be thawed; and the thorns pierced her flesh; and great

drops of blood flowed; but the bramble shot forth fresh green

leaves; and they became flowers on the cold winter's night; so warm is

the heart of a sorrowing mother。 Then the bramble…bush told her the

path she must take。 She came at length to a great lake; on which there

was neither ship nor boat to be seen。 The lake was not frozen

sufficiently for her to pass over on the ice; nor was it open enough

for her to wade through; and yet she must cross it; if she wished to

find her child。 Then she laid herself down to drink up the water of

the lake; which was of course impossible for any human being to do;

but the bereaved mother thought that perhaps a miracle might take

place to help her。 〃You will never succeed in this;〃 said the lake;

let us make an agreement together which will be better。 I love to

collect pearls; and your eyes are the purest I have ever seen。 If

you will weep those eyes away in tears into my waters; then I will

take you to the large hothouse where Death dwells and rears flowers

and trees; every one of which is a human life。〃

    〃Oh; what would I not give to reach my child!〃 said the weeping

mother; and as she still continued to weep; her eyes fell into the

depths of the lake; and became two costly pearls。

    Then the lake lifted her up; and wafted her across to the opposite

shore as if she were on a swing; where stood a wonderful building many

miles in length。 No one could tell whether it was a mountain covered

with forests and full of caves; or whether it had been built。 But

the poor mother could not see; for she had wept her eyes into the

lake。 〃Where shall I find Death; who went away with my little

child?〃 she asked。

    〃He has not arrived here yet;〃 said an old gray…haired woman;

who was walking about; and watering Death's hothouse。 〃How have you

found your way here? and who helped you?〃

    〃God has helped me;〃 she replied。 〃He is merciful; will you not be

merciful too? Where shall I find my little child?〃

    〃I did not know the child;〃 said the old woman; 〃and you are

blind。 Many flowers and trees have faded to…night; and Death will soon

come to transplant them。 You know already that every human being has a

life…tree or a life…flower; just as may be ordained for him。 They look

like other plants; but they have hearts that beat。 Children's hearts

also beat: from that you may perhaps be able to recognize your

child。 But what will you give me; if I tell you what more you will

have to do?

    〃I have nothing to give;〃 said the afflicted mother; 〃but I

would go to the ends of the earth for you。〃

    〃I can give you nothing to do for me there;〃 said the old woman;

〃but you can give me your long black hair。 You know yourself that it

is beautiful; and it pleases me。 You can take my white hair in

exchange; which will be something in return。〃

    〃Do you ask nothing more than that?〃 said she。 〃I will give it

to you with pleasure。〃

    And she gave up her beautiful hair; and received in return the

white locks of the old woman。 Then they went into Death's vast

hothouse; where flowers and trees grew together in wonderful

profusion。 Blooming hyacinths; under glass bells; and peonies; like

strong trees。 There grew water…plants; some quite fresh; and others

looking sickly; which had water…snakes twining round them; and black

crabs clinging to their stems。 There stood noble palm…trees; oaks; and

plantains; and beneath them bloomed thyme and parsley。 Each tree and

flower had a name; each represented a human life; and belonged to

men still living; some in China; others in Greenland; and in all parts

of the world。 Some large trees had been planted in little pots; so

that they were cramped for room; and seemed about to burst the pot

to pieces; while many weak little flowers were growing in rich soil;

with moss all around them; carefully tended and cared for。 The

sorrowing mother bent over the little plants; and heard the human

heart beating in each; and recognized the beatings of her child's

heart among millions of others。

    〃That is it;〃 she cried; stretching out her hand towards a

little crocus…flower which hung down its sickly head。

    〃Do not touch the flower;〃 exclaimed the old woman; 〃but place

yourself here; and when Death comes… I expect him every minute… do not

let him pull up that plant; but threaten him that if he does you

will serve the other flowers in the same manner。 This will make him

afraid; for he must account to God for each of them。 None can be

uprooted; unless he receives permission to do so。〃

    There rushed through the hothouse a ch

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