1872
  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　chill　of　icy　coldness；　and　the
  blind　mother　felt　that　Death　had　arrived。
  〃How　did　you　find　your　way　hither？〃　asked　he；　〃how　could　you
  come　here　faster　than　I　have？〃
  〃I　am　a　mother；〃　she　answered。
  And　Death　stretched　out　his　hand　towards　the　delicate　little
  flower；　but　she　held　her　hands　tightly　round　it；　and　held　it　fast　at
  same　time；　with　the　most　anxious　care；　lest　she　should　touch　one　of
  the　leaves。　Then　Death　breathed　upon　her　hands；　and　she　felt　his
  breath　colder　than　the　icy　wind；　and　her　hands　sank　down　powerless。
  〃You　cannot　prevail　against　me；〃　said　Death。
  〃But　a　God　of　mercy　can；〃　said　she。
  〃I　only　do　His　will；〃　replied　Death。　〃I　am　his　gardener。　I　take
  all　His　flowers　and　trees；　and　transplant　them　into　the　gardens　of
  Paradise　in　an　unknown　land。　How　they　flourish　there；　and　what　that
  garden　resembles；　I　may　not　tell　you。〃
  〃Give　me　back　my　child；〃　said　the　mother；　weeping　and　imploring；
  and　she　seized　two　beautiful　flowers　in　her　hands；　and　cried　to　Death；
  〃I　will　tear　up　all　your　flowers；　for　I　am　in　despair。〃
  〃Do　not　touch　them；〃　said　Death。　〃You　say　you　are　unhappy；　and
  would　you　make　another　mother　as　unhappy　as　yourself？〃
  〃Another　mother！〃　cried　the　poor　woman；　setting　the　flowers　free
  from　her　hands。
  〃