Children in the grave

The room is full of sadness, and every heart is full of sadness. A four-year-old child died. He is the only child of his parents, their joy and hope for the future. His parents have two eldest daughters, and the oldest one will be confirmed this year. They are all lovely children, but the dead child is always the most distressed child, not to mention the youngest only child. This is really a catastrophe. The young hearts of the two sisters have been sad to the extreme; Their father's grief made them feel particularly sad. My father's waist has been bent, and my mother has been crushed by this unprecedented sadness. She used to be busy nursing the sick child day and night, taking care of him and hugging him, feeling that he had become a part of her body. It is hard for her to imagine that he is dead, about to lie in a coffin and be buried in a grave. She thinks it is impossible for God to take the child away from her. But it happened, and it became a real fact, so she said in severe pain:

"God doesn't know about it! Some of his servants in the world really have no conscience; These people handle things casually and don't listen to their mother's prayers at all. "

She abandoned God in pain. Dark thoughts sprang up in her mind-she thought of death, eternal death. She thinks that people are just dust in the dust, and her life is over. The idea made her feel helpless; She fell into a bottomless pit of disappointment.

She couldn't even cry when she was in extreme pain. It didn't occur to her that she had a young daughter. Her husband's tears dripped on her forehead, but she didn't look at him. She kept thinking about the dead child. Her whole life and existence are immersed in memories: memories of her children, memories of every childish word he said.

The day of burial finally came. Before that, she had not slept for several nights; But at dawn, she was so tired that she fell asleep in a daze. At this time, the coffin was carried to a secluded house. The coffin lid was nailed there in case she heard the sound of a hammer.

As soon as she woke up, she got up to see the children. Her husband said with tears:

"We've nailed the coffin-we have to!"

"Since God is so cruel to me," she said loudly, "how can people be kind to me?" So she sobbed and began to cry.

The coffin was carried to the cemetery. The grieving mother sat with her two daughters. She looked at them, but her eyes couldn't see them, because there was no home in her heart. Sorrow controlled her whole life. Sorrow attacked her, just as the sea attacked a ship that lost its compass and rudder. So the days of burial passed, followed by a series of equally monotonous and painful days. The sad family looked at her with moist eyes and sad eyes; She turned a deaf ear to their comforting words. Indeed, they themselves are extremely sad. What else can they say?

She no longer seems to know what sleep is. At this time, whoever can make her body recover and let her soul rest in peace can be said to be her best friend. Everyone advised her to lie in bed, and she lay there motionless as if she were asleep. One night, her husband listened to her breathing and made sure that she had been rested and comforted. So he put his hands together and prayed; So gradually, he was sleepy himself. He didn't notice that she had got up, put on her clothes and quietly walked out of the room. She went straight to the place where she missed day and night-the grave where her child was buried. She walked through the garden of the house and across the field-there was a path leading out of the city, and she walked along this road until she reached the church cemetery. Nobody saw her, and she didn't see anyone.

This is a beautiful starry sky. The air is still mild-it's early September. She went into the churchyard until she came to a small grave. The grave is like a big flower, emitting fragrance. She sat down and looked down at the grave, as if she could see her beloved child through the dense soil. She can still clearly remember the child's smile: she will never forget the kind expression in the child's eyes-even when he is lying in the hospital bed. Every time she bent down and raised his little hand, his eyes seemed to reveal her infinite' troubles'. She is sitting next to his grave now, just like sitting next to his cradle. But now she is in tears. These tears fell on the grave.

"You are going to find your children!" Said a voice beside her. It was a loud and deep voice that hit her heart. She looked up and saw a man standing beside her. The man was wearing a wide mourning dress and a hat on his head. But she can see the face under the hat. This is a serious but trustworthy face. His eyes sparkled with the light of youth.

"To find my children?" She repeated what the man said. There was an eager pleading tone in her voice.

"Do you dare to follow me?" The figure said. "I am death!"

She nodded her head in agreement. So she immediately felt that all the stars above were shining like a full moon. She saw all kinds of flowers on the grave. The soil layer is slowly and gently separated to both sides like a light curtain. She sank, and the ghost covered her with his black mourning. This is night, the night of death. She sank deeper and deeper than the church keeper's shovel could dig. The churchyard now seems to be the roof over her head.

One side of the mourning was lifted; She appeared in a solemn hall. The hall spread out in all directions, showing a welcoming atmosphere. It was dusk all around, but just then, her child appeared in front of her. She hugged him tightly. He smiled at her, which was the most beautiful smile ever. She let out a scream, but no one could hear it, because then there was a sweet and loud music, close at hand and far away, as if it were beside her. Such a happy tone has never been heard in her ears. It comes from outside the huge black curtain that separates this hall from the great and eternal country.

"My dear mother! Give birth to me and raise my mother! " She heard her children call it that.

The voice is so familiar and affectionate. She kissed him again and again with infinite happiness. The child pointed to the black curtain.

"The world can't be so beautiful! Mom, look! Look at all this carefully! This is happiness! "

But mom didn't see anything. There is nothing but the night where the child is pointing. With human eyes, she can't see what the child called by God himself can see. She can only hear the tone of the music, but she can't tell the lyrics-the lyrics she should believe.

"Mom, now I can fly!" The child said, "I want to fly to God with many other happy children. I long to fly away, but when you cry, when you cry like this, I can't leave you. How I want to fly! Can I fly away? Dear mom, come to me quickly! "

"Oh, stop flying! Oh, don't fly! " She said. "Stay for a while. I want to see you again, kiss you again and hold you in my arms! "

So she kissed him and hugged him tightly. Then a voice called her name-a voice of mourning. What does this mean?

"Did you hear that?" The child asked. "That's dad calling you."

After a while, there was another deep sigh, like that of a crying child.

"This is the voice of my sisters!" The child said. "Mom, you haven't forgotten them, have you?"

So she thought of the children who stayed at home. She felt a twinge of fear. She stared ahead. There were many figures floating by, and several of them seemed familiar to her. They drifted across the hall of death, came to the black curtain and disappeared. Are her husband and daughter among these ghosts? No, their shouts and sighs still came from above: for the sake of the dead children, she almost forgot them.

"Mom, the bell in the sky has rung!" The child said. "Mom, the sun is out!"

Then there was a bright light coming at her. The child disappeared and she was lifted into the air, surrounded by cold air. She looked up and found herself in the churchyard, next to her son's grave. When she dreams, God comforts her and makes her reason shine. She knelt down and prayed:

"Oh, my God! Please forgive me for trying to stop an immortal soul from flying away and forgetting the responsibility you left me for the living! "

After she said these words, her heart seemed a lot easier. The sun came out, a bird sang on her head, and the church bell called people to do morning prayers. There is a sacred atmosphere around her and a sacred feeling in her heart! She knew God, she knew her responsibility, and hurried home with longing. She bent down to her husband and woke him up with a warm kiss. They said sweet and warm words. She is strong and gentle again now-just like a housewife can do. Now there is a confident power in her heart.

"providence is always the best!"

Her husband asked her, "Where did you get this strength-this quiet mood?"

She kissed him and kissed her child.

"I got it from God through the children in the grave."

( 1859)

This is a prose poem, which was first published in "New Nordic Poetry and Silhouettes of Finnish, Danish and Swedish Writers"18591859 (Nyanordiskadikterogskild Ruigaraaeainska, danskaOchSvensBkaAEoAraeattare) published in Stockholm in February. Andersen said in his notes: "The children in the grave, like the mother's story, give me more pleasure than any of my works, because many deeply sad mothers get comfort and strength from it." On the surface, this story praises God's "love" and kindness, but it really describes the greatness of her mother: she wants to love her dead children and protect her living relatives, and she has to struggle between "love" and "responsibility in life" to keep a balance. Andersen couldn't solve this problem, so he had to turn to "God"-this shows how often a writer fights for his own soul.