In
a town where there lived so many people
that the houses were huddled close together,
there once lived a boy and a girl.
The boy's name was Kai,
and the girl's name was Gerda.
They were good friends,
and loved nothing better than to play in the window gardens
that leaned from the gables of their houses.
In the summer,
they could climb easily from one window to the other.
In winter,
when the windows were tightly closed and covered with ice,
Kai would run with Gerda
to her house and from her grandmother's window
observe the dance of snowflakes as they gathered
in the wintry sky.
The snowflakes are swarming like white bees,
the grandmother would say.
Do the snowflakes have a queen too,
like the bees?
asked Kai.
They do indeed,
said the grandmother.
What's she like?
asked Gerda.
Well no one has ever seen her,
said the grandmother,
but they say that once long ago,
the snow
queen looked up at her icy palace and felt sad,
because she was all alone.
She
had a mirror,
which she used to look at the icy things she would make.
The mirror
was the Queen's only companion.
She loved it more than anything else,
for it always
seemed to praise her magical creations and double their perfection.
I love you,
it seemed to whisper to her.
But one day,
she stared into her mirror and grew angry,
because she led such a lonely life,
and because there was no one there to love her.
You don't
love me,
she cried in rage,
and the mirror trembled in her hand,
and then down,
down it
fell, shattering into a million pieces.
All her loneliness,
sadness, and anger were captured by
the millions of shattered fragments of her magic mirror.
Some were tiny as grains of sand, and when
the winds came, they were scattered everywhere.
If one of these ever entered a person's eye,
nothing
looked right again.
But far worse was the fate of those whose
hearts were pierced by a sliver of the
mirror.
They would soon forget the pain and go on as before,
never knowing that the heart inside of
them had frozen into ice.
Ever since then, on snowy nights,
the lonely Snow Queen flies through the streets of the
town and looks in at the windows,
and then they become covered with ice flowers.
Yes, I've seen that, said Kai.
Me too, said Gerda,
for they were sure that what the grandmother said was true.
But why does she do that?
Asked Kai.
Because she is always looking for someone to take back with her,
to the land where she rules with magical powers,
a lonely land of ice and snow and forgetfulness.
Late that night,
Kai went to the window and looked out.
It was snowing softly.
Of all the things in the world,
Kai thought to himself,
sometimes I think I like snow best of all.
And as he watched,
the snowflakes falling on the window
box gradually took the shape of a woman.
She was made of glittering ice.
Her eyes shone like two stars,
yet neither rest nor peace was in them.
She nodded and beckoned to him.
Kai's eyes grew wide with fear and recognition.
It was the Snow Queen.
And then suddenly,
ice flowers covered the window and she was gone.
It snowed throughout the night,
and the next day,
the town seemed magically transformed.
Great snowdrifts muffled the sounds of the wind,
and the world was hushed as if waiting for some great event on stage.
Then, as if on a signal,
people emerged from their homes and the air was filled with the
sounds of the day and a busy children shouting and laughing.
The children sledded down a snow
-covered street that ended in the square.
Just as the town clock struck the hour,
a big white sled raced by,
blowing snow up into the air.
Kai cried out.
What
is it?
Asked Gerda.
Something sharp is in my eye, he cried.
Something has pricked my heart.
Gerda looked into Kai's eyes.
She could see nothing,
but she cried because she felt sorry for him.
I think it's gone now, said Kai.
But he was wrong.
For one splinter of the Snow Queen's mirror had entered his eye,
and another had pierced his heart.
Suddenly,
Kai turned on Gerda and began to mock her.
Why are you crying?
You look ugly when you cry.
There's nothing the matter with me.
Leave me alone, he shouted and pushed her away.
I'm going to play with the other boys.
And away he went,
without ever looking back at poor,
bewildered Gerda.
Now it was the custing in that town for the
bigger boys to tie their sleds onto the farmer's
carts to travel faster over the hard-packed snow.
Kai saw the big white sled circling the square.
Quickly, he tied his little sled onto the big
one.
He wanted to show the older boys how daring he was.
Watch me, he shouted.
Suddenly the big sled dashed out of the square,
and away they went,
faster and faster.
Soon the town was far behind them.
Snow fell more thickly.
Snowflakes swirled around them,
and the sled moved like the wind.
Kai was very frightened.
He tried to say his prayers,
but all he could remember were his multiplication tables.
The snowflakes grew and grew until they looked
like great white hens running near them.
At last the big sled stopped,
and the driver stood up.
Kai knew her at once.
She was the Snow Queen.
How cold you look,
she said.
Come closer.
Let me warm you.
She put her cloak around Kai and kissed his forehead.
Her kiss was like an icy wound.
Yet at once Kai felt stronger,
and he did not notice how cold the air was.
As he stared
into the Snow Queen's face,
he thought he had never seen anyone wiser or more beautiful.
The longer he looked,
the less he knew,
and soon all memory of Gerda and her grandmother
vanished.
They set out again,
and now they left the earth and were flying in the air.
Above oceans, lakes, and mountains they flew,
spurred by the wind.
Kai could hear far below the cry of wolves and the cawing of crows.
The white moon came out and traveled with them across the sky.
Finally,
Kai fell asleep at the feet of the Snow Queen.
It was a sad, gray winter.
As time passed,
people in the town began to say that Kai must have drowned in the icy
river that ran close to the square
where the boys played with their sleds.
But Gerda could
not believe this.
One clear morning in early spring,
she put on her new red shoes,
quietly left the house,
and went down to the river.
Is it true that you have taken Kai?
she asked the river.
She thought the waves nodded strangely.
She took off her new red shoes and threw them
into the water.
Here are my new red shoes.
If only you will
give him back to me.
But the river carried them back to her, as
if to say it had not taken Kai. Gerda
thought she hadn't thrown them in far enough.
So she
climbed into a rowboat that was in the reeds
and threw the shoes over the water again.
Just
then,
the current caught the boat,
and Gerda found herself floating faster and faster down
the river.
She was frightened and clung tightly to her little doll.
Perhaps it will carry me to where Kai is,
she thought,
and sat perfectly still in her
stocking feet.
The land along the shores was green and beautiful,
but there was no one to be seen anywhere.
At last the boat drifted near a cherry
orchard and came to rest upon the shore.
An old lady came out of a strange little house
nearby and caught hold of the boat with her
shepherd's crook.
You poor little thing,
she said to Gerda.
Tell me who you are
and how you have come to be here.
I'm searching for my friend,
said Gerda,
and she told the old woman everything.
You must not be sad.
Your friend will probably pass this way soon.
Come inside and I will give
you some of my delicious cherries to eat
and show you all the flowers in my garden.
The old woman took Gerda by the hand and led her into the house.
The windows were made of colored
glass and a strange light shone in the room.
On a table stood a silver bowl full of ripe cherries.
As Gerda ate them and stayed with the woman,
she thought of Kai less and less.
The old woman knew
some magic,
but she was not evil and she had
always wanted a little girl of her own.
That evening, when Gerda had fallen asleep,
the woman went into the garden and pointed her
shepherd's crook at the rose bushes.
At once they sank into the ground and disappeared.
She was afraid that if Gerda saw the roses,
she would think of Kai and run away.
In the morning,
the old woman dressed Gerda up just like a little princess in a
fine dress and jewelry and took her outside to see the garden.
Gerda played in the golden sunshine with
the flowers and came to know everyone.
But
always something seemed to be missing
and she could not think what it was.
Many weeks passed and Gerda might have stayed forever,
lulled by the old woman's kindness and the beauty of the place.
But one day she noticed the painting of a rose
on a broad-brimmed hat the woman often wore,
for she had forgotten about that one.
And at once the memory of Kai came rushing
in like water through a broken ***.
Oh,
I've stayed here much too long, she cried.
I must find Kai.
She ran to the end of the garden and
unlatched the door in the garden wall.
Outside the earth was cold and gray.
Gerda realized that it was late autumn.
Back in the old woman's garden she had not seen the seasons change.
There it was always summer and the flowers
of every season were always in bloom.
Gerda held tightly to her doll,
not knowing where to go.
A crow came and sat on a branch next to her.
It seemed to be saying,
Kai, Kai,
as though it knew where he was.
Gerda followed it through fields and forests,
though there was frost on the ground and her bare feet stung.
The trees were barren and a
cold autumn mist dripped down through their branches.
How harsh and sad the world seemed.
Suddenly a pair of strong hands grabbed
Gerda and she was lifted up into the air.
A gruff and raspy voice announced the presence of a highway robber.
Well, what have we here?
A real princess with real gold and jewels.
She's a princess,
all right,
said an old robber woman.
And she's worth a fortune in ransom.
But just as the old robber woman was about to *** poor Gerda,
her daughter,
who was watching from up in a tree,
jumped down on her back and gave her nose a good pinch.
No, she's mine, screamed the little robber girl.
I wanna play with her.
She was a spoiled and willful child,
and so the robbers had to give in.
That night,
the robber girl took Gerda inside the ruins of an old castle.
The walls were cracked,
the windows broken,
and
ravens flew in and out of big holes in the tower.
Fierce dogs skulked about in the dark halls.
In one corner was the robber girl's room,
filled with birds and animals.
This is my place,
and you'll sleep here with me,
she told Gerda.
Gerda looked at the poor creatures around her and
thought the robber girl meant to make her a prisoner too,
like one of them.
She was frightened but tried to sound cheerful.
Are all these animals your friends, she asked?
Yes,
they are all mine,
answered the robber girl.
In a corner of the room,
she kept two wood pigeons in a cage high up in the rafters,
and a reindeer stood tied near her bed.
I like to keep them imprisoned, she told Gerda.
It amuses me to see their sorrow.
She took one of the pigeons and held
the frightened bird up to Gerda's face.
Kiss it,
she demanded.
Gerda kissed the bird lightly on the head,
and the pigeon grew calm and cooed softly.
Are you really a princess?
asked the robber girl.
Gerda shook her head and grew even sadder.
No,
I'm not,
she said,
and then told the robber girl how she was looking for comfort.
Gerda was a kind,
and had come to be in the forest wearing such fine jewels.
In the moonlit shadows of that dark room,
the robber girl listened to Gerda's every
word.
She looked at her very seriously,
and the animals all listened too.
What rotten luck,
losing your best friend like that,
said the robber girl.
The little robber girl lay down to sleep,
but Gerda was afraid to close her eyes.
In the middle of the night,
the crow appeared on the windowsill.
Kai,
Kai, it sang.
Kai, Kai,
sang the wood pigeons in reply.
We have seen Kai.
He sat in the snow queen's sled,
and she carried him to her land far to the north.
You must ask the reindeer where it is.
You will know.
Oh, yes,
said the reindeer.
I know the snow queen's kingdom very well.
Ice and snow are always there.
It is a good place for animals,
where we can roam freely in the shining valleys of her kingdom.
But your friend must be very lonely and
very cold.
The robber girl was not sleeping,
and was struck with wonder at what she heard.
She listened quite solemnly,
but then jumped out of bed and hugged Gerda.
There was a sudden glimmer of affection in her normally brash face.
Listen,
she whispered,
afraid of rousing the other robbers.
I will help you.
You shall take the reindeer.
He will carry you to your friend.
Outside, morning mist filled the sky.
You'll need these warm clothes and food.
Said the robber girl.
In return,
Gerda gave her the doll that had been her companion for so long.
The robber girl looked at the doll for a long time.
No one's ever given me anything,
she said.
And then she gave the reindeer a mighty slap.
And away they went, as fast as they could,
farther and farther north,
into a deep woods filled with the sound
of howling wolves and birds of prey.
The reindeer stopped,
listening carefully, moving forward cautiously.
Suddenly, a pack of wolves
descended from behind some rocks.
The reindeer bounded forward,
leaping over fallen trees.
Gerda
clung for her life.
Overhead flew the crow, cawing wildly.
The reindeer followed the crow to the edge
of a steep cliff,
then jumped with all his might,
barely reaching the other side.
The wolves arrived
moments later and stopped short,
watching their prey escape to safety.
Gerda and the reindeer moved on, exhausted,
until at last they came to the end of the woods
and stood in a clearing overlooking a valley of ice and snow.
Suddenly,
the sky was filled with great arcs of color.
These were the northern lights,
and this was the edge of the Snow Queen's kingdom.
Poor Gerda was so tired that she fell asleep on the reindeer's back.
The crow,
who had followed them there,
descended.
And as the reindeer watched,
the crow changed itself into its real form.
There stood the old woman.
Poor tired girl, she said.
Old woman,
exclaimed the reindeer,
you are so wise that you can tie all the winds of
the world into four knots on a single thread.
Won't you give this little girl a potion to
make her strong enough to defeat the Snow Queen?
The old woman smiled and patted his nose.
I can give her no more power than she has already.
Don't you see how people and animals love her?
Don't you see how she's been able to journey so far,
though her feet are bare?
No, my friend.
Gerda's power is in her heart.
Her goodness and innocence are the
only weapons against the Snow Queen.
The old woman again changed into a
crow and flew off just as Gerda awoke.
The reindeer ran a short way over the snowy earth
and set her down beside a bush with red berries.
You must go on alone,
he told her.
Gerda looked up at him and saw that his face was streaked with tears.
Then she followed the path and ran toward
the Snow Queen's palace as fast as she could.
Suddenly she saw hundreds of snowflakes.
They whirled along just above the earth,
growing larger as they came near.
Some looked like huge porcupines,
others like snakes writhing
together.
Still others were like bears with grinning faces.
They were the Snow Queen's army
on the march.
Gerda stopped short.
Her breath came fast,
forming vapor in the frozen air.
As she
stood there,
determined to let nothing keep her from Kai,
her breath shaped itself into a band
of angels armed with shields and spears.
They threw their spears at the snow creatures,
shattering them
into thousands of pieces.
There were no more barriers after that,
and Gerda was
able to walk into the Snow Queen's palace.
The palace walls were glittering ice,
and the windows and doors were made of wind.
In
the glare of the northern lights,
Gerda could see the gates opening before her.
Echoing,
vast and cold was the Snow Queen's palace.
Yet Gerda had come so far already that she
was not afraid.
She ran through halls of drifted snow
that turned and twisted for miles.
At last,
she saw a tiny figure,
blue with cold,
seated on a frozen lake.
As Gerda drew closer,
she saw that it was Kai. He was playing with pieces of ice,
arranging
them into patterns.
The game was very important,
because the Snow Queen had promised that if
he could form the right word,
she would give him the world and a new pair of skates.
The word was eternity,
but Kai could not remember it,
no matter how hard he tried.
He did not
even look up when Gerda rushed at him
and threw her arms around his poor,
stiff body.
She began to cry,
and her hot tears fell upon his heart and melted the ice away.
Only then could he see her.
Gerda?
Oh Gerda, is it really you?
Where have you been for so long?
What place is this, Gerda?
Why is it so cold and empty here?
He wept and wept until the grains of
glass in his eyes were washed away.
Then he held onto Gerda as if he would never let her go.
So glad were they to be together that they
never even noticed that the pieces of ice
had formed themselves into the word Kai had been trying to make.
Now the Snow Queen could return,
and it would not matter,
for Kai's right to freedom was
written upon the frozen lake.
They ran through icy rooms and down snow-filled
passages until they were at last at the door
of the palace.
Pushing with all their might,
the door swung open.
There stood the Snow Queen.
Snow Queen looked at them,
looked at their love for each other,
and her own heart melted
just a bit.
She raised her hand,
waved it once across the landscape of her kingdom,
and the sky
filled with lights of every color and hue that
glistened and gleamed off the crystallized
leaves and branches of the trees.
Gerda and Kai looked on in amazement.
Then they turned
to each other
and laughed.
They took one another's hand and ran smiling down the palace stairs.
The wind had died
down and the sun shone through the clouds.
At last they reached the bush where the reindeer
was waiting.
Kai and Gerda climbed upon the reindeer's back,
and the animal carried them
along until blades of grass started to break through the snow.
Soon they were walking up the stairs to the grandmother's house.
Nothing had changed.
The clock on the wall was ticking,
and the wheels inside it moved.
But when Kai and Gerda stepped through the doorway,
they knew they had grown up.
They went out into the sunshine.
In the window gardens they saw the roses blooming.
There were the little stools they used to sit upon.
So they sat,
the two of them.
Grown up,
yet in their hearts,
children.
And it was summer.
A beautiful summer day.