There was once a little boy who
had caught cold; he had gone out and got wet feet. Nobody had the least idea
how it had happened; the weather was quite dry. His mother undressed him,
put him to bed, and ordered the teapot to be brought in, that she might make
him a good cup of tea from the elder-tree blossoms, which is so warming. At
the same time, the kind-hearted old man who lived by himself in the upper
storey of the house came in; he led a lonely life, for he had no wife and
children; but he loved the children of others very much, and he could tell
so many fairy tales and stories, that it was a pleasure to hear him.
"Now, drink your tea," said the mother; "perhaps you will hear
a story."
"Yes, if I only knew a fresh
one," said the old man, and nodded smilingly. "But how did the
little fellow get his wet feet?" he then asked. "That," replied
the mother, "nobody can understand."
"Will you tell me a story?"
asked the boy. "Yes, if you can tell me as nearly as possible how deep
is the gutter in the little street where you go to school." "Just
half as high as my top-boots," replied the boy; "but then I must
stand in the deepest holes."
"There, now we know where
you got your wet feet," said the old man. "I ought to tell you a
story, but the worst of it is, I do not know any more." "You can
make one up," said the little boy. "Mother says you can tell a fairy
tale about anything you look at or touch." "That is all very well,
but such tales or stories are worth nothing! No, the right ones come by themselves
and knock at my forehead saying: ‘Here I am.’"
"Will not one knock soon?"
asked the boy; and the mother smiled while she put elder-tree blossoms into
the teapot and poured boiling water over them. "Pray, tell me a story."
"Yes, if stories came by
themselves; they are so proud, they only come when they please.-But wait,"
he said suddenly, "there is one. Look at the teapot; there is a story
in it now."
And the little boy looked at
the teapot; the lid rose up gradually, the elder-tree blossoms sprang forth
one by one, fresh and white; long boughs came forth; even out of the spout
they grew up in all directions, and formed a bush-nay, a large elder tree,
which stretched its branches up to the bed and pushed the curtains aside;
and there were so many blossoms and such a sweet fragrance! In the midst of
the tree sat a kindly-looking old woman with a strange dress; it was as green
as the leaves, and trimmed with large white blossoms, so that it was difficult
to say whether it was real cloth, or the leaves and blossoms of the elder-tree.
"What is this woman's name?" asked the little boy. "Well, the
Romans and Greeks used to call her a Dryad," said the old man; "but
we do not understand that. Out in the sailors' quarter they give her a better
name; there she is called elder-tree mother. Now, you must attentively listen
to her and look at the beautiful elder-tree. "Just such a large tree,
covered with flowers, stands out there; it grew in the corner of an humble
little yard; under this tree sat two old people one afternoon in the beautiful
sunshine. He was an old, old sailor, and she his old wife; they had already
great-grandchildren, and were soon to celebrate their golden wedding, but
they could not remember the date, and the elder-tree mother was sitting in
the tree and looked as pleased as this one here. ‘I know very well when the
golden wedding is to take place,’ she said; but they did not hear it-they
were talking of bygone days.
"‘Well, do you remember?’ said the old sailor, ‘when we were quite small
and used to run about and play-it was in the very same yard where we now are-we
used to put little branches into the ground and make a garden.’ "‘Yes,’
said the old woman, ‘I remember it very well; we used to water the branches,
and one of them, an elder-tree branch, took root, and grew and became the
large tree under which we are now sitting as old people.’
"‘Certainly, you are right,’
he said; ‘and in yonder corner stood a large water-tub; there I used to sail
my boat, which I had cut out myself-it sailed so well; but soon I had to sail
somewhere else.’
"‘But first we went to school
to learn something,’ she said, ‘and then we were confirmed; we both wept on
that day, but in the afternoon we went out hand in hand, and ascended the
high round tower and looked out into the wide world right over Copenhagen
and the sea; then we walked to Fredericksburg, where the king and the queen
were sailing about in their magnificent boat on the canals.’ "‘But soon
I had to sail about somewhere else, and for many years I was travelling about
far away from home.’ "‘And I often cried about you, for I was afraid
lest you were drowned and lying at the bottom of the sea. Many a time I got
up in the night and looked if the weathercock had turned; it turned often,
but you did not return. I remember one day distinctly: the rain was pouring
down in torrents; the dust-man had come to the house where I was in service;
I went down with the dust-bin and stood for a moment in the doorway, and looked
at the dreadful weather. Then the postman gave me a letter; it was from you.
Heavens! how that letter had travelled about. I tore it open and read it;
I cried and laughed at the same time, and was so happy! Therein was written
that you were staying in the hot countries, where the coffee grows. These
must be marvellous countries. You said a great deal about them, and I read
all while the rain was pouring down and I was standing there with the dust-bin.
Then suddenly some one put his arm round my waist-’
"‘Yes, and you gave him
a hearty smack on the cheek,’ said the old man.
"‘I did not know that it
was you-you had come as quickly as your letter; and you looked so handsome,
and so you do still. You had a large yellow silk handkerchief in your pocket
and a shining hat on. You looked so well, and the weather in the street was
horrible!’
"‘Then we married,’ he said. ‘Do you remember how we got our first boy,
and then Mary, Niels, Peter, John, and Christian?’ ‘Oh yes; and now they have
all grown up, and have become useful members of society, whom everybody cares
for.’ "‘And their children have had children again,’ said the old sailor.
‘Yes, these are children's children, and they are strong and healthy. If I
am not mistaken, our wedding took place at this season of the year.’
"‘Yes, to-day is your golden
wedding-day,’ said the little elder-tree mother, stretching her head down
between the two old people, who thought that she was their neighbour who was
nodding to them; they looked at each other and clasped hands. Soon afterwards
the children and grandchildren came, for they knew very well that it was the
golden wedding-day; they had already wished them joy and happiness in the
morning, but the old people had forgotten it, although they remembered things
so well that had passed many, many years ago. The elder-tree smelt strongly,
and the setting sun illuminated the faces of the two old people, so that they
looked quite rosy; the youngest of the grandchildren danced round them, and
cried merrily that there would be a feast in the evening, for they were to
have hot potatoes; and the elder mother nodded in the tree and cried ‘Hooray’
with the others." "But that was no fairy tale," said the little
boy who had listened to it. "You will presently understand it,"
said the old man who told the story. "Let us ask little elder-tree mother
about it." "That was no fairy tale," said the little elder-tree
mother; "but now it comes! Real life furnishes us with subjects for the
most wonderful fairy tales; for otherwise my beautiful elder-bush could not
have grown forth out of the teapot." And then she took the little boy
out of bed and placed him on her bosom; the elder branches, full of blossoms,
closed over them; it was as if they sat in a thick leafy bower which flew
with them through the air; it was beautiful beyond all description. The little
elder-tree mother had suddenly become a charming young girl, but her dress
was still of the same green material, covered with white blossoms, as the
elder-tree mother had worn; she had a real elder blossom on her bosom, and
a wreath of the same flowers was wound round her curly golden hair; her eyes
were so large and so blue that it was wonderful to look at them. She and the
boy kissed each other, and then they were of the same age and felt the same
joys. They walked hand in hand out of the bower, and now stood at home in
a beautiful flower garden. Near the green lawn the father's walking-stick
was tied to a post. There was life in this stick for the little ones, for
as soon as they seated themselves upon it the polished knob turned into a
neighing horse's head, a long black mane was fluttering in the wind, and four
strong slender legs grew out. The animal was fiery and spirited; they galloped
round the lawn. "Hooray! now we shall ride far away, many miles!"
said the boy; "we shall ride to the nobleman's estate where we were last
year." And they rode round the lawn again, and the little girl, who,
as we know, was no other than the little elder-tree mother, continually cried,
"Now we are in the country! Do you see the farmhouse there, with the
large baking stove, which projects like a gigantic egg out of the wall into
the road? The elder-tree spreads its branches over it, and the cock struts
about and scratches for the hens. Look how proud he is! Now we are near the
church; it stands on a high hill, under the spreading oak trees; one of them
is half dead! Now we are at the smithy, where the fire roars and the half-naked
men beat with their hammers so that the sparks fly far and wide. Let's be
off to the beautiful farm!" And they passed by everything the little
girl, who was sitting behind on the stick, described, and the boy saw it,
and yet they only went round the lawn. Then they played in a side-walk, and
marked out a little garden on the ground; she took elder-blossoms out of her
hair and planted them, and they grew exactly like those the old people planted
when they were children, as we have heard before. They walked about hand in
hand, just as the old couple had done when they were little, but they did
not go to the round tower nor to the Fredericksburg garden. No; the little
girl seized the boy round the waist, and then they flew far into the country.
It was spring and it became summer, it was autumn and it became winter, and
thousands of pictures reflected themselves in the boy's eyes and heart, and
the little girl always sang again, "You will never forget that!"
And during their whole flight the elder-tree smelt so sweetly; he noticed
the roses and the fresh beeches, but the elder-tree smelt much stronger, for
the flowers were fixed on the little girl's bosom, against which the boy often
rested his head during the flight.
"It is beautiful here in
spring," said the little girl, and they were again in the green beechwood,
where the thyme breathed forth sweet fragrance at their feet, and the pink
anemones looked lovely in the green moss. "Oh! that it were always spring
in the fragrant beechwood!"
"Here it is splendid in
summer!" she said, and they passed by old castles of the age of chivalry.
The high walls and indented battlements were reflected in the water of the
ditches, on which swans were swimming and peering into the old shady avenues.
The corn waved in the field like a yellow sea. Red and yellow flowers grew
in the ditches, wild hops and convolvuli in full bloom in the hedges. In the
evening the moon rose, large and round, and the hayricks in the meadows smelt
sweetly. "One can never forget it!" "Here it is beautiful in
autumn!" said the little girl, and the atmosphere seemed twice as high
and blue, while the wood shone with crimson, green, and gold. The hounds were
running off, flocks of wild fowl flew screaming over the barrows, while the
bramble bushes twined round the old stones. The dark-blue sea was covered
with white-sailed ships, and in the barns sat old women, girls, and children
picking hops into a large tub; the young ones sang songs, and the old people
told fairy tales about goblins and sorcerers. It could not be more pleasant
anywhere.
"Here it's agreeable in
winter!" said the little girl, and all the trees were covered with hoar-frost,
so that they looked like white coral. The snow creaked under one's feet, as
if one had new boots on. One shooting star after another traversed the sky.
In the room the Christmas tree was lit, and there were song and merriment.
In the peasant's cottage the violin sounded, and games were played for apple
quarters; even the poorest child said, "It is beautiful in winter!"
And indeed it was beautiful! And the little girl showed everything to the
boy, and the elder-tree continued to breathe forth sweet perfume, while the
red flag with the white cross was streaming in the wind; it was the flag under
which the old sailor had served. The boy became a youth; he was to go out
into the wide world, far away to the countries where the coffee grows. But
at parting the little girl took an elder-blossom from her breast and gave
it to him as a keepsake. He placed it in his prayer-book, and when he opened
it in distant lands it was always at the place where the flower of remembrance
was lying; and the more he looked at it the fresher it became, so that he
could almost smell the fragrance of the woods at home. He distinctly saw the
little girl, with her bright blue eyes, peeping out from behind the petals,
and heard her whispering, "Here it is beautiful in spring, in summer,
in autumn, and in winter," and hundreds of pictures passed through his
mind. Thus many years rolled by. He had now become an old man, and was sitting,
with his old wife, under an elder-tree in full bloom. They held each other
by the hand exactly as the great-grandfather and the great-grandmother had
done outside, and, like them, they talked about bygone days and of their golden
wedding. The little girl with the blue eyes and elder-blossoms in her hair
was sitting high up in the tree, and nodded to them, saying, "To-day
is the golden wedding!" And then she took two flowers out of her wreath
and kissed them. They glittered at first like silver, then like gold, and
when she placed them on the heads of the old people each flower became a golden
crown. There they both sat like a king and queen under the sweet-smelling
tree, which looked exactly like an elder-tree, and he told his wife the story
of the elder-tree mother as it had been told him when he was a little boy.
They were both of opinion that the story contained many points like their
own, and these similarities they liked best. "Yes, so it is," said
the little girl in the tree. "Some call me Little Elder-tree Mother;
others a Dryad; but my real name is ‘Remembrance.’ It is I who sit in the
tree which grows and grows. I can remember things and tell stories! But let's
see if you have still got your flower." And the old man opened his prayer-book;
the elder-blossom was still in it, and as fresh as if it had only just been
put in. Remembrance nodded, and the two old people, with the golden crowns
on their heads, sat in the glowing evening sun. They closed their eyes and-and-
Well, now the story is ended! The little boy in bed did not know whether he
had dreamt it or heard it told; the teapot stood on the table, but no elder-tree
was growing out of it, and the old man who had told the story was on the point
of leaving the room, and he did go out. "How beautiful it was!"
said the little boy. "Mother, I have been to warm countries!"
"I believe you," said
the mother; "if one takes two cups of hot elder-tea it is quite natural
that one gets into warm countries!" And she covered him up well, so that
he might not take cold. "You have slept soundly while I was arguing with
the old man whether it was a story or a fairy tale!"
"And what has become of
the little elder-tree mother?" asked the boy. "She is in the teapot,"
said the mother; "and there she may remain."
Source : "The Little Elder-Tree
Mother" by Hans Christian Andersen (1845)