Thumbelina

THUMBELINA gives us an example of how we should act in this life. for shore  we will encounter many problems and obstacles in this life, But as long as we are true to ourselves, honest and kind to ourselves and others, just like Thumbelina, we will overcome these obstacles and, in the end, get what is best for us.


Little Tiny or Thumbelina

There was once a woman who wished very much to have a little child, but she
 
could not obtain her wish, at last, she went to a fairy and said
 
I should so very much like to have a little child, can you tell me where I can find one?”
 
“Oh, that is very easily managed,” said the fairy. “Here is a barleycorn of a different kind
to those which grow in the farmer’s fields and which the chickens eat, put it into a flower pot and see what will happen to it.”
 
“Thank you,” said the woman, and she gave the fairy twelve shillings which were 
 
the price of the barleycorn, then she went home and planted it, and immediately there
 
grew up a large handsome flower, something like a tulip in appearance but with its
 
leaves tightly closed as if there were still a bud; it is a beautiful flower,
 
said the woman, and she kissed the red and golden colored leaves and while she did
 
so, the flower opened, and she could see that it was a real tulip. Within the flower
 
upon the green velvet stamens sat a very delicate and graceful little maiden;
 
she was scarcely half as long as a thumb, and they gave her the name Thumbelina
 
or Tiny because she was so small a walnut shell elegantly polished served her Farah
 
cradle her bed was formed of blue-violet leaves with the rose leaf for a counter paint,
 
here she slept at night, but during the day, she amused herself at a table where
 
the woman had placed the plate was full of water, and around this plate were wreaths
 
of flowers with their stems in the water, and upon it floated a large tulip leaf which
 
served tiny for a vote, here the little maiden sat and rode herself from side to side with
 
two oars made of white horsehair, it really was a very pretty sight; tiny could also sing
 
so softly and sweetly that nothing like her singing had ever before been heard
 
one night while she lay in her pretty bed, a large ugly wet toad crept through a broken
 
pane of glass in the window and leaped right upon the table where Tiny lay sleeping
 
under her rose-leaf quilt; what a pretty little life this would make for my son,
 
said the toad, and she took up the walnut shell in which little Tiny lay asleep
 
and jumped through the window with it into the garden in the swampy margin
 
of a broad stream, the garden lived the toad with her son; he was uglier even
 
than his mother, and when he saw the pretty little maiden in her elegant bed,
 
he could only cry: 
 
“oh, don’t be so loud, or she will wake,” said the toad, and then she might run away
 
for she is as light as swansdown, we will place her on one of the water lilies’ leaves out
 
in the stream, it will be like an island to her; she is so light and small, and then
 
she cannot escape, and while she is away, we will make haste and prepare
 
the stateroom under the marsh in which you are to live when you are married far out
 
in the stream grow a number of water lilies with broad green leaves, which seemed
 
to float on the top of the water, the largest of these leaves appear farther out than
 
the rest and the old toad swam out to it with the walnut shell in which little Tiny
 
lay still asleep, the tiny little creature woke very early in the morning and began
 
to cry bitterly when she found where she was, for she could see nothing but water
 
on every side the large green leaf and no way of reaching the land.
 
meanwhile the old toad was very busy under the marsh decking her room with
 
rushes, and while yellow flowers to make it look pretty for her new daughter-in-law,
 
then she swam out with her ugly son to the leaf on which she had placed poor
 
little Tiny she wanted to fetch the pretty bed that she might put it in the bridal
 
chamber to be ready for her. The old toad bowed low to her in the water
 
and said: “here is my son, he will be your husband, and you will live happily”,
 
In the marsh by the stream was all her son could say for himself so the toad took up
 
the elegant little bed and swam away with it leaving Tiny all alone on the green leaf
 
where she sat and wept she could not bear to think of living with the old toad
 
and having her ugly son for a husband, the little fishes who swam about in the water
 
beneath had seen the toad and heard what she said,  so they lifted their heads above
 
the water to look at the little maiden as soon as they caught sight of her they saw
 
she was very pretty and it made them very sorry to think that she must go and
 
live with the ugly toads. “oh it must never be so” they assembled together in
 
the water around the green stock which held the leaf on which the little maiden
 
stood and gnawed it away at the root with their teeth then the leaf floated down
 
the stream carrying Tiny far away out of reach of land tiny sailed past many towns
 
and the little birds in the bushes saw her and said: “What a lovely little creature” 
 
so the leaf swam away with her farther and farther till it brought her to other lands.
 
A graceful little white butterfly constantly fluttered around her and at last alighted
 
on the leaf Tiny pleased, he and she were glad of it for now the toad could not pass.
 
we reach her and the country through which she now sailed was beautiful
 
and the Sun shone upon the water till it glittered like liquid gold; she took off her girdle
 
and tied one end of it around the butterfly and the other end of the ribbon,
 
she fastened to the leaf which now glided on much faster than ever taking little Tiny
 
with it as she stood presently.
 
A large cockchafer flew by the moment he caught sight of her; he seized her round
 
her delicate waist with his claws and flew with her into a tree; the green leaf floated
 
away on the brook, and the butterfly flew with it, for he was fastened to it
 
and could not get away. Oh, how frightened the little Tiny felt when the cockchafer
 
flew with her to the tree, but especially was she sorry for the beautiful white butterfly
 
which she had fastened to the leaf, for if he could not free himself,  he would die of
 
hunger, but the cockchafer did not trouble himself at all about the matter; he seated
 
himself by her side on a large green leaf, gave her some honey from the flowers to eat
 
and told her she was very pretty, though not in the least like a cockchafer; after a time
 
all the cockchafer turned up their feelers and said, “she has only two legs; how ugly
 
that looks”,  “she has no feelers,”  said another. “Her waist is quite a slim,
 
Pooh, she is like a human being”,  “oh she is ugly,” set all the lady cockchafers,
 
although tiny was very pretty, then the cockchafer who had run away with her believed
 
all the others when they said she was ugly and would have nothing more to say to her
 
and told her she might go where is she lit, then he flew down with her from the tree
 
and placed her on a daisy she wept at the thought that she was so ugly that
 
even the capers would have nothing to say to her, and all the while, she was really
 
the loveliest creature that one could imagine and as tender and delicate
 
as a beautiful rose-leaf during the whole summer.
 
Poor little Tiny lived quite alone in the wide forest; she wove herself a bed with blades
 
of grass and hung it up under a broad leaf to protect herself from the rain,
 
she sucked the honey from the flowers for food and drank the dew from their leaves
 
every morning.
 
So passed away the summer, and the autumn, and then came winter, the long
 
cold winter. All the birds who had sung to her so sweetly were flown away and
 
the trees and the flowers had withered the large clover leaf under the shelter
 
of which she had lived was now rolled together and shriveled up; nothing remained,
 
but a yellow withered stalk, she felt dreadfully cold, for her clothes were torn
 
and she was herself so frail and delicate that poor little Tiny was nearly
 
frozen to death. It began to snow, too, and the snowflakes as they fell upon her
 
or like a whole shovel full falling upon one of us, for we are tall, but she was only an
 
inch high, then she wrapped herself up in a dry leaf, but it cracked in the middle
 
and could not keep her warm, and she shivered with cold near the wood in which she
 
had been living to lay a cornfield, but the corn had been cut a long time, nothing
 
remained but the bare, dry stubble standing up out of the frozen ground. It was to her
 
like struggling through a large wood, oh how she shivered with the cold,
 
she came at last to the door of a field mouse who had a little din under the corn
 
stubble, there dwelt the field mouse in warmth and comfort with the whole room

Thumbelina going to live with the field-mouse

 
full of corn, a kitchen, and a beautiful dining room; poor little tiny stood before
 
the door like a little beggar girl and begged for a small piece of barleycorn
 
where she had been without a morsel to eat for two days.
 
“you poor little creature,” said the field mouse, who was really a good old field-mouse
 
coming to my warm room and dining with me; she was very pleased with Tiny,
 
so she said, “you are quite welcome to stay with me all the winter if you like, but you
 
must keep my rooms clean and neat and tell me stories, for I shall like to hear them
 
very much,” and tiny did all the field-mouse asked her and found herself very
 
comfortable. “We shall have a visitor soon,” said the field-mouse one day, “my neighbor
 
pays me a visit once a week, he is better off than I am, he has large rooms and wears
 
a beautiful black velvet coat; if you could only have him for a husband, you would be
 
well provided for indeed, but he is blind, so you must tell him some of your prettiest
 
stories,” but Tiny did not feel at all interested in this neighbor, for he was a mole.
 
However, he came and paid his visit, dressed in his black velvet coat; he is very rich
 
and learned, “And his house is 20 times larger than mine,” said the field mouse.
 
He was rich and learned too, no doubt, but he always spoke slightingly of a sun
 
and the pretty flowers because he had never seen them.
 
Tiny was obliged to sing to him, ‘Ladybird, ladybird fly away home,’ and many other
 
pretty songs, and the mole fell in love with her because she had such a sweet voice,
 
but he said nothing yet, for he was very cautious; a short time before, the mole had
 
dug a long passage under the earth which led from the dwelling of the fieldmouse
 
to his own, and here she had permission to walk with Tiny whenever she liked,
 
but he warned them not to be alarmed at the sight of a dead bird that lay in the
 
passage, it was a perfect bird with a beak and feathers and could not have been dead
 
long and was lying just where the mold had made his passage.
 
The mole took a piece of phosphorescent wood in his mouth, and it glittered like fire
 
in the dark, then he went before them to light them through the long dark passage,
 
when they came to the spot where lay the dead bird, the mole pushed his broad nose
 
through the ceiling, the earth gave way so that there was a large hole, and the daylight
 
shone into the passage in the middle of the floor lay a dead swallow, his beautiful
 
wings pulled close to his side, his feet, and his head drawn up under his feathers,
 
the poor bird had evidently died of the cold; it made little Tiny very sad to see it,
 
she did so love the little bird.
 
All the summer, they had sung and twittered for her so beautifully, but the mole
 
pushed it aside with his crooked legs and said, “he will say no more now,”
 
“how miserable it must be to be born a little bird; I am thankful that none of my
 
children will never be Birds, for they can do nothing but cry, tweet tweet, and always
 
die of hunger in the winter”  “Yes, you may well say that as a clever man,”
 
exclaimed the field mouse. “What is the use of his twittering for when winter comes,
 
he must either starve or be frozen to death” “Still, birds are very high-bred,”
 
Tiny said nothing, but when the two others had turned their backs on the bird;
 
she stooped down and stroked a sigh of the soft feathers that covered the head
 
and kissed the closed eyelids.
 
“Perhaps this was the one who sang to me so sweetly in the summer,” she said
 
“and how much pleasure it gave me, you dear pretty bird,” 
 
the mole now stopped up the hole through which the daylight has shown and then
 
accompanied at the lady’s home. But during the night, Tiny could not sleep
 
so she got out of bed and wove a large beautiful carpet of hay, then she carried it
 
to the dead bird and spread it over him with some down from the feathers which
 
she had found in the field Mouse’s room. It was as soft as wool, and she spreads
 
some of it on either side of the bird so that he might lie warmly in the cold earth.”
 
“Farewell, you pretty little bird,” said she. “Farewell, thank you for your delightful
 
singing during the summer, when all the trees were green, and the warm sun
 
shone upon us”, then she laid her head on the bird’s breast,  but she was alarmed
 
immediately, for it seemed as if something inside the bird went thump thump,
 
it was the bird’s heart; he was not really dead, only benumbed with the cold
 
and the warmth had restored him to life.
 
In autumn, all the swallows fly away into warm countries, but if one happens
 
to linger, the cold seizes, it becomes frozen, and falls down as dead. It remains
 
where it fell, and the cold snow covers it. Tiny trembled very much; she was quite
 
frightened for the bird was large, a great deal, larger than herself.
 
She was only an inch high, but she took the courage, laid the wool more thickly over
 
the poor swallow and then took a leaf which she had used for her own counterpane
 
and laid it over the head of the poor bird. The next morning she again stole out
 
to see him, he was alive but very weak; he could only open his eyes for a moment

Thumbelina nursing the swallow

 
to look at Tiny, who stood by holding a piece of decayed wood in her hand,
 
for she had no other lantern. “thank you, pretty little Maiden,” said the sick swallow,
 
“I have been so nicely warmed that I shall soon regain my strength and be able
 
to fly about again” “The warm sunshine, Oh,” said she, “is cold out of doors now
 
it snows and freezes, stays in your warm bed; I will take care of you.”
 
then she brought the swallow some water from a flower leaf, and after he had drank
 
he told her that he had wounded one of his wings in a thorn bush and could not
 
fly as fast as the others who were soon far away on their journey to warm countries
 
then, at last, he had fallen to the earth and could remember no more nor how he came
 
to be where she had found him the whole winter. The swallow remained underground
 
and Tiny nursed him with care and love neither the mole nor the field knew
 
anything about it, for they did not like swallows.
 
Very soon, springtime came, and the Sun warmed the earth, then the swallow
 
bade farewell to Tiny, and she opened the hold of the sealing which the mole
 
had made the sunshine in upon them so beautifully that the swallow asked her
 
if she could go with him, “she could sit on his back,” he said, and he would fly away
 
with her into the green woods, but Tiny knew it would make the field-mouse
 
very grieved if she left her in that manner, so she said, “No, I cannot, farewell,”
 
“then farewell, you good pretty little maiden,” said the swallow, and he flew out into
 
the sunshine. Tiny looked after him, and the tears rose in her eyes; she was very fond
 
of the poor swallow. “Twy, twy” sang the bird as he flew out into the green woods
 
and Tiny felt very sad; she was not allowed to go out into the warm sunshine.
 
The corn which had been sown in the field over the house of the field-mouse 
 
a grown-up high into the air and formed a thick wood to Tiny, who was only an inch
 
in height, “you are going to be married, Tiny,” said the field mouse, “my neighbor
 
has asked for you” “Good fortune for a poor child like you; now we will prepare your
 
wedding clothes, they must be both woolen and linen, nothing must be wanting
 
when you are the mole’s wife”. Tiny had to turn the spindle, and the field mouse hired
 
for spiders who were to weave day and night every evening. The mold visited her
 
and was continually speaking of the time when the summer would be over, 
 
then he would keep his wedding day with Tiny, but now the heat of the Sun was
 
so great that it burned the earth and made it quite hard like a stone as soon as
 
the summer was over the wedding should take place but, Tiny was not at all pleased
 
for she did not like the tiresome mole every morning when the Sun rose
 
and every evening when it went down, she would creep out at the door, and as
 
the wind blew aside the ears of corn so that she could see the blue sky. she thought
 
how beautiful and bright it seemed out there and wished so much to see her dear
 
swallow again, but he never returned, for by this time, he had flown far away into
 
the lovely green forest; when autumn arrived, Tiny had her outfit quite ready
 
and the fieldmouse said to her in four weeks, the wedding must take place,
 
then Tiny wept and said she could not marry the disagreeable mole,
 
“Nonsense,” replied the fieldmouse, “Now don’t be obstinate, or I shall bite you
 
with my white teeth, he is a very handsome mole the Queen herself does not wear
 
more beautiful Velvets and furs,  his kitchen and cellars are quite full; you ought to be
 
very thankful for such good fortune”, so the wedding day was fixed on which the mole
 
was to fetch Tiny away to live with him deep under the earth and never again see
 
the warm Sun because he did not like it. The poor child was very unhappy at the
 
thought of saying farewell to the beautiful sun and as the fieldmouse had given her
 
permission to stand at the door. she went to look at it once more; farewell, bright
 
sun, she cried, stretching out her arm towards it, and then she walked a short
 
distance from the house where the corn had been cut, and only the dry stubble
 
remained in the fields “Farewell farewell,” she repeated, twining her arm round
 
a little red flower they grew just by her side, greet the little swallow from me
 
if you should see him again, “tweet-tweet ” sounded over her head, and suddenly
 
she looked up, and there was the swallow himself flying close by; as soon
 
as he spied Tiny, he was delighted, and then she told him how unwilling she felt
 
to marry the ugly mole, and to live always beneath the earth and never to see
 
the bright Sun anymore, and as she told him, “she wept, a cold winter is coming.”
 
said the swallow, “and I am going to fly away into the warmer countries,
 
will you go with me? You can sit on my back and fasten yourself on
 
with your sash, then we can fly away from the ugly mole and his gloomy rooms
 
far away over the mountains into warmer countries where the Sun shines more
 
brightly than here, where it is always summer, and the flowers bloom
 
in greater beauty, fly now with me, dear little Tiny” “You saved my life when I lay
 
Frozen in that dark passage”.
 
“yes, I will go with you,” said Tiny, and she seated herself on the bird’s back
 
with her feet on his outstretched wings and tied her girdle to one of his strongest
 
feathers, then the swallow rose in the air and flew over forests and over the sea,
 
high over the highest mountains covered with eternal snow. Tiny would have been
 
frozen in the cold air, she crept under the bird’s warm feathers,
 
keeping her little head uncovered so that she might admire the beautiful lands
 
over which they passed at left.
 
they reached the warm countries where the Sun shines brightly, and the sky seems
 
so much higher above the earth. Here on the hedges and by the wayside grew
 
purple, green, and white grapes, lemons, and oranges hung from trees in the woods,
 
and the air was fragrant with myrtles and orange blossoms, beautiful children
 
ran along the country lanes playing with large gay butterflies, and as the swallow
 
flew farther and farther, every place appeared still more lovely; at last, they came to a
 
Blue Lake, and by the side of it, shaded by trees of the deepest green, stood a palace
 
of dazzling white marble built in the olden times, vines clustered around its lofty
 
pillars, and at the top were many swallows’ nests, and one of these was the home
 
of the swallow who carried Tiny. “This is my house,” said the swallow, “but it would not
 
do for you to live there, you would not be comfortable; you must choose for yourself
 
one of those lovely flowers, and I will put you down upon it, and then you shall have
 
everything that you can wish to make you happy”, “and that would be delightful.”
 
she said and clapped her little hands for joy. A large marble pillar lay on the ground
 
which in falling had been broken into three pieces, and between these pieces grew
 
the most beautiful large white flowers, so the swallow flew down with Tiny,
 
and placed her on one of the broad leaves, but how surprised she was to see in the
 
middle of the flower, a tiny little man as white and transparent as if he had been made
 
of crystal, he had a gold crown on his head and delicate wings at his shoulders,
 
and was not much larger than Tiny; he was the angel of the flower for a tiny man,
 
and a tiny woman dwelled in every flower, and this was the king of them all.
 
“Oh, how beautiful he is,” whispered Tiny to the swallow; the little prince was at first
 
quite frightened at the bird who was like a giant compared to such a delicate little
 
creature as himself, but when he saw Tiny, he was delighted and thought her
 
the prettiest little maiden he had ever seen. He took the gold crown from his head
 
and placed it on hers and asked her name and if she would be his wife in Queen.
 
Overall the flowers certainly was a different sort of husband to the sun
 
of a toad or the mole with my black velvet in fur, so she said yes to the handsome
 
prince. Then all the flowers opened, and out of each came a little lady or a tiny Lord
 
also pretty. It was quite a pleasure to look at them; each of them brought Tiny
 
a present, but the best gift was a pair of beautiful wings which had belonged
 
to a large white fly, and they fastened them to Tiny’s shoulders so that she might
 
fly from flower to flower. Then there was much rejoicing and the little swallow
 
who said above them in his nest, was asked to sing a wedding song, which he
 
did as well as he could, but in his heart, he felt sad, for he was very fond of Tiny,
 
and would have liked never to depart from her again.
 
“You must not be called Tiny any more,” said the spirit of the flowers to her,
 
“it is an ugly name, and you are very pretty; we will call you “Maya” “farewell, farewell.”
 
said the swallow with a heavy heart as he left the warm countries to fly back into
 
Denmark, where he had a nest over the window of a house in which dwelt the writer
 
of fairy tales. the swallow sang tweet-tweet, and from his song came the whole story
The End