The story of a mother – part 2
A Fairy tale by - Hans Christian Andersen
Then the mother came to a large lake, where there was neither a ship nor a boat. The lake was not frozen sufficiently to bear her; neither was it open, nor low enough that she could wade through it; and across it she must go if she would find her child! Then she lay down to drink up the lake, and that was impossible for a human being, but the afflicted mother thought that a miracle might happen still then.
"Oh, what would I not give to come to my child!" said the weeping mother. She wept still more, and her eyes plunged down in the depths of the waters, and became two precious pearls. but the water bore her up, as if she sat in a swing, and she flew in the rocking waves to the shore on the opposite side, where there stood a mile-broad, strange house, one knew not if it were a mountain with forests and caverns, or if it were built up; but the poor mother could not see it; she had wept her eyes out.
"Where shall I find the Death, who took away my little child?" said the mother.
"He has not come here yet!" said the old serious woman, who was appointed to look after Death's great greenhouse. "How have you been able to find the way of this place? And who has helped you?"
"OUR LORD has helped me," said the mother. "He is merciful, and you will also be so! Where shall I find my little child?"
"No, I do not know and you cannot see!" said the woman, “Many flowers and trees have drooped this night; Death will soon come and plant them over again! You certainly know that every person has his or her life's tree or flower, just as everyone happens to be settled; they look like other plants, but they have pulsations of the heart. Children's hearts can also beat; go after yours, perhaps you may know your child's. But what will you give me if I tell you what you shall do more?"
"I have nothing left to give you," said the afflicted mother, "but I will go to the world's end for you!"
"No, I have nothing to do there!" said the old woman. "But you can give me your long black hair; you know yourself that it is fine, and that I like! You shall have my white hair instead of your long black hair!"
"Do you demand nothing else? That I will gladly give you!”, said the mother. Then she gave her fine black hair, and got the old woman's snow-white hair instead of her own hair.
So they went into Death's great greenhouse, where flowers and trees grew strangely into one another. There stood beautiful palm-trees, oaks, and plantains; there stood parsley and flowering thyme: every tree and every flower had its name; each of them was a human life. There were large trees in small pots, so that they stood so stunted in growth, and ready to burst the pots; in other places, there was a little dull flower in rich structure, with moss round about it, and it was so petted and nursed. Then the distressed mother bent down over all the smallest plants, and heard within them how the human heart beat; and in the middle of millions she knew her child's heart beat.
"There it is!" cried the mother, and stretched her hands out over a little blue crocus, that hung quite sickly on one side.
"Don't touch the flower!" said the old woman. "But place yourself here, and when Death comes-I expect him every moment-do not let him pluck the flower up, but threaten him that you will do the same with the others. Then he will be afraid! He is responsible for them to OUR LORD, and no one dares to pluck them up before HE gives leave."
All at once an icy cold wind through the great hall, and the mother could feel that it was Death that came.
"How have you been able to find the way of this place?" he asked. "How could you come here quicker than I?"
"I am a mother," said the mother.
The Death stretched out his long hand towards the fine little flower, but she held her hands fast around his, so tight, and yet afraid that she should touch one of the leaves. Then Death blew on her hands, and she felt that it was colder than the cold wind, and her hands fell down powerless.
"You can not do anything against me!" said Death.
"But OUR LORD can!" said the mother. "I only follow His command!" said the Death. "I am His gardener, I take all His flowers and trees, and plant them out in the great garden of Paradise, in the unknown land; but how they grow there, and how it is there I dare not tell you."
"Give me back my child!" said the mother, and she wept and prayed. At once she seized hold of two beautiful flowers close by, with each hand, and cried out to Death, "I will destroy all your flowers off, for I am in frustration."
"Touch them not!" said Death. "You said that you are so unhappy for your child, and now you will make another mother equally unhappy."
"Another mother!" said the poor mother, and directly let go her hold of both the flowers.
“There are your eyes,” said the Death. “I fished them up out of the lake for you. They were shining brightly; but I knew not they were yours. Take them back-they are clearer now than before—and then look into the deep well which is close by here. I will tell you the names of the two flowers which you wished to pull up; and you will see the whole future of the human beings they represent, and what you were about to frustrate and destroy.”
Then she looked into the well; and it was a wonderful sight to behold how one of them became a blessing to the world, and how much happiness and joy it spread around. But she saw that the life of the other was full of sorrow, distress, horror, poverty and misery.
"Both of them are God's will!" said the Death.
"Which of them is Misfortune's flower and which is that of Happiness?" asked the mother.
“That I may not tell you,” said the Death; “but up to now, you may learn that one of the two flowers represents your own child. It was the fate of your child that you saw-the future of your own child.”
Then the mother screamed with fear, "Which of them was my child? Tell it me! Save the innocent! Save my child from all that misery! Rather take it away! Take it into God's kingdom! Forget my tears, forget my prayers, and all that I have done!"
"I do not understand you!" said the Death. "Will you have your child again, or shall I go with it there, where you do not know!"
Then the mother wrung her hands, fell on her knees, and prayed to our Lord: "Oh, hear me not when I pray against Your will, which is the best! Please do that. Hear me not! Hear me not!"
And she bowed her head down in her lap, and Death took her child and went with it into the unknown land.
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