Sleep Story: The Snow Queen Part 1 & 2

The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen Part 1 The Looking Glass and the Broken Bits Now look out.

We're going to begin.

When we've come to the end of this part,

We shall know more than we do now.

For it has to do with a wicked imp,

One of the very wickedest,

Old Nick.

One day he was in excellent spirits because he had made a looking glass which had this about it.

That everything good and beautiful that was reflected in it shrank up into almost nothing.

Whereas everything useless and ugly stood out worse than ever.

In this glass,

The loveliest scenery looked like spoiled spinach.

And even the nicest people became nasty or stood on their heads and had no stomachs.

Faces were so twisted that you couldn't recognize them.

And if you happen to have one freckle,

You could be sure that it would spread all over your nose and mouth.

That was huge fun,

According to old Nick.

Suppose a person had some kind good thought.

A horrible leer was reflected in the looking glass,

Which made Nick roar with laughter at his clever invention.

Everyone who went to the imp school.

For he kept a school for imps.

What about saying there had been a miracle?

Now for the first time,

They declared,

One could see what people and things really looked like.

They ran about all over the place with the looking glass.

Till at last there wasn't a country or person that hadn't been changed for the worse in this way.

And now they decided to fly up to heaven and make fun of the angels and of God himself.

The higher they flew with the looking glass,

The more horribly it leered.

They could scarcely hold on to it.

Up and up they went,

Near and nearer to God and the angels.

All at once the glass quivered so terribly from its grimace that it flew out of their hands and went crashing down to earth where it burst into a hundred million billion pieces.

And even more than that.

In fact,

It now did much worse damage than before.

You see,

Some pieces were hardly bigger than a grain of sand.

And these flew around the whole wide world.

And whenever they got into people's eyes,

They stuck there.

And a person saw everything wrong or saw only the worst side of the thing.

For every little glass splinter had kept the same powers as the whole looking glass.

Some people even got a little bit of glass in their hearts.

And that was too terrible.

The heart became just like a lump of ice.

A few fragments were so big that they got used as window panes.

But it was better not to see your friends through the windows of that sort.

Other pieces were fitted into spectacles.

And when people put on their glasses in order to see properly and fairly,

Then things didn't go on well at all.

And the devil laughed till he split.

He was simply tickled to death.

But outside there were still little bits of glass whirling about in the air.

Just listen to what happened.

Part Two A Little Boy and a Little Girl In the great city,

Where there were so many houses and people that there isn't room for everyone to have a little garden of his own.

So most of them have to be content with flowers and flower pots.

There lived two poor children who did have a garden a bit larger than a flower pot.

They weren't brother and sister,

But they were just as fond of each other as if they'd been.

Their parents were next door neighbors,

Living in attics.

At the point where their roofs were almost touching and the gutter ran along between the eaves,

Each house had a window facing the other.

You had only to step out over the gutter to cross from window to window.

The parents of the two children each had a big wooden box outside.

And in this grew pot herbs,

Which they used,

And a little rose tree.

There was one in each box,

And they grew beautifully.

Then the parents thought of placing the boxes across the gutter in such a way that they nearly reached from one window to the other.

And looked exactly like two banks of flowers.

The sweet pea tendrils hung down over the boxes.

The rose trees put out long branches,

Twining round the windows and leaning towards each other.

It was almost a triumphal arc of greenery and flowers,

As the boxes were very high.

And the two children knew that they mustn't crawl up on them.

They often got time to leave and climb out to each other.

Sitting on their little stools under the roses,

Had wonderful games there together.

In winter,

Of course,

That sort of fun came to an end.

The window panes were often frosted right over.

But then they warmed up pennies on the stove,

Placed the heating coin on the frozen pane,

And in this way made a splendid peephole as round as could be.

Behind there peeped a gentle,

Loving eye,

One from each window.

It was the little boy and the little girl.

His name was Kay,

Hers was Gerda.

In summer,

They could reach each other with a single jump.

In winter,

They must go down a lot of stairs,

Then up a lot of stairs.

While outside,

The snow would be steadily falling.

Those are the white bees swarming,

Said the old grandmother.

Have they got a queen as well?

Asked the little boy,

For he knew that real bees have a sort of queen.

Yes,

They have,

Said the grandmother.

She flies just where the swarm is thickest,

And she's the biggest of them all.

She never lies still on the ground.

She flies up again into the black cloud.

On many a winter night,

She flies through the streets of the town and peeps in the windows,

And then they freeze into curious patterns just like flowers.

Yes,

I've seen that,

Cried both children at once,

And so they knew it was true.

Can the snow queen come in here?

Asked the little girl.

Just let her have a go,

Said the boy.

I'll put her on the hot stove,

And she'll melt.

But the grandmother smoothed his hair and told them some other stories.

In the evening,

When little Kay was home again and half undressed,

He crawled up the chairs by the window and peeped through the little hole.

A few snowflakes were falling outside,

And one of these,

The biggest of all,

Remained lying on the edge of the flower box.

The snowflake grew larger and larger,

Till at last it became the figure of a woman dressed in the most delicate white gown.

She was pretty and distinguished looking,

But a figure of ice,

Glaring glittering ice.

Yet she was alive.

Her eyes stared like two bright stars,

But there was no peace or quiet in them.

She nodded towards the window and beckoned with her hand.

The little boy grew frightened and jumped down from the chair,

And at that moment a large bird seemed to fly past the window.

Next day there was a clear frost,

And this was followed by a thaw.

After that came the spring.

The sun shone.

Bits of green peeped out.

The swallows built their nests.

The windows were thrown open,

And once more the two little children sat in their little garden,

High up in the gutter,

At the very top of the house.

The roses were especially fine that summer.

The little girl had learned a hymn that had a bit of roses in it,

And these roses made her think of her own.

She sang it to the little boy,

And he joined in.

The valley glows with many a rose,

And there we meet the sacred child.

And the two children took each other's hands and kissed the roses.

They looked up at God's bright sunshine and spoke to it as if the Holy Child were there.

What beautiful summer days those were.

How beautiful it was to be out besides the fresh rose trees,

Which never seemed to want to stop blooming.

Kay and Gerda sat looking at the picture book of birds and animals.

When suddenly,

Just as five o'clock was striking from the tall church tower,

Kay called out,

Ow!

Something's pricked me in the heart.

Ow!

And now I've got a little heartache.

It pricked me in the heart.

Ow!

And now I've got something in my eye.

The little girl put her arm around his neck.

He blinked his eyes.

No,

There was nothing to be seen.

I expect it's gone,

He said,

But it hadn't gone.

It just happened to be one of those glass splinters that flew from the looking glass,

The imp glass,

Remember?

Don't you?

That horrid glass which made everything great and good that was reflected in it seemed small and ugly,

While what was evil and wicked stood out sharply,

And every flaw showed up at once.

Sure enough,

Poor Kay had received a piece right in his heart,

Which would presently turn into a lump of ice.

For that moment,

The piece of glass had stopped hurting,

But it was still there.

Gerda,

Why are you crying,

He asked.

It makes you look so ugly.

There's nothing whatever the matter with me.

Ugh,

He cried suddenly.

That rose has got a worm in it,

And how crooked that one's growing.

They're rotten roses when you come to think of it,

Just like the boxes they're growing in.

And he kicked the box so hard,

He broke off two of the roses.

Kay,

What are you doing,

Exclaimed the little girl.

And when he saw how upset she was,

He broke off another rose and ran to his window,

Away from the dear little Gerda.

Next time she got out the picture book,

He said the book was babyish,

And if their grandmother told them stories,

He always chipped in with the,

Ah,

But.

He would even,

If he got the chance,

Go behind her,

Put on some spectacles,

And just talk like her.

It was a perfect imitation,

And made people laugh.

After a while,

He could mimic the voice,

And walk of every single person in the street.

Kay knew how to take off all their awkward peculiarities,

So that people said,

That boy certainly has a remarkable head on him.

But no,

It was the bit of glass in his eye,

The bit of glass in his heart,

That made him tease even little Gerda,

Who loved him from the bottom of her heart.

The games he played now were quite different from the old ones.

They were quite brainy.

One winter's day,

As the snowflakes were drifting down,

He picked up a big burning glass.

Holding up the flap of his blue coat,

He let the snowflakes fall in.

Take a peep through this glass,

Gerda,

He said,

And every snowflake became much larger,

And looked like a splendid flower,

Or a ten-pointed star.

It was a wonderful sight.

Do you see how cunning that is,

Said Kay?

These are much more interesting than real flowers,

And there isn't a single flaw in them.

They are perfect in every way,

As long as they don't melt.

A little later,

Kay arrived with big gloves on,

And his toboggan on his back.

He shouted into Gerda's ears that he had been told he might go tobogganing in the main square,

Where the other were playing.

And away he went.

Over in the square,

The boldest boys often tied their toboggans onto the farmer's cart,

And in that way went a great distance.

It was grand sport.

In the midst of the fun,

A large sled drove up,

All painted white dead.

In it sat a figure,

Marvelled in a white fur coat,

And a white fur coat,

And wearing a white fur cap.

The sledge drove twice around the square,

And in a twinkling Kay managed to fasten his toboggan behind it,

So that it pulled him along.

Faster and faster they went,

Straight into the next street.

The driver of the sledge,

With a turn of the head,

Gave Kay a friendly nod,

As though they knew each other.

And each time that Kay thought of loosening his little toboggan,

The person nodded again.

And so Kay stayed where he was,

And they drove straight out of the town gate.

Now the snow began to fall so quickly and thickly that the boy couldn't see his hand in front of his face,

As he rushed along.

He quickly let loose the rope so he was able to get away from the big sledge,

But it was no use.

His little toboggan still clung to it,

And they scutted away like the wind.

He yelled at the top of his voice,

But no one heard him,

And the snow whirled down,

And the sledge flew on.

Now and then it did a little jump,

As though they were crossing ditches and hedges.

Kay was absolutely terrified.

He tried to say the Lord's Prayer,

But all he could remember was the multiplication table.

The snowflakes got bigger and bigger until at last they looked like great white chickens.

All at once they sprang aside,

The big sledge stopped,

And the driver stood up.

Coat and cap were pure white.

It was a woman,

Tall and straight,

White and glittering.

It was the Snow Queen.

We've covered the ground well,

She said,

But do you feel cold?

Creep into my bearskin.

And she put him beside her in the sledge and wrapped the furs around him.

It was sinking like a snowdrift.

Are you still cold?

She asked,

And then she kissed his forehead.

Her eyes were kisses.

Her kisses were colder than ice.

It went right to his heart,

Which was anyhow nearly a lump of ice already.

After that,

All was well,

And he didn't notice being cold anymore.

My sledge,

Don't forget my little sledge.

That was the first thing he thought of,

And it was fastened to one of the white chickens which came flying along behind them.

The Snow Queen kissed Kay once more,

And after that he'd quite forgotten little Gerda and Granny and all the others at home.

You must have had any more kisses,

Said the Snow Queen,

Or I shall kiss you to death.

Kay looked at her.

She was very beautiful.

He couldn't imagine a more intelligent,

Lovelier face.

She no longer seemed to be a figure of ice.

As she did that time,

She was outside the window.

In his eyes,

She was perfect.

He didn't feel a bit afraid,

But described to her how he could do mental arithmetic,

Even with fractions,

And that he knew the number of square miles there were to be different countries.

And what's the population?

And she kept smiling back at him,

So that he began to think that perhaps he knew what he was talking about.

And he looked up into the great spaces of the sky,

And she flew along with him,

High up on the black cloud.

And the wind roared and whistled.

It reminded one of the old folk songs.

They flew over woods and lakes,

Over sea and land.

Below them the icy blasts whistled.

The wolves howled,

And the snow sparkled as a black rose flew,

Screaming across it.

But high above everything shone the great silver moon.

Kay gazed up at it through the long,

Long winter night.

By day,

He slept at the Snow Queen's feet.

That is the end of our sleep story tonight.

May you have sweet dreams.