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Seligor's Castle, fun for all the children of the world. Blogs
Sat, 08 Aug 2009
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Gold and Silver, Angels and Flowers. Unite them both with a life past it's hours.
GOLD AND SILVER
THE ANGEL
"Whenever a child dies, an
angel comes down from heaven, takes
the
child in its arms,
and,
spreading out its large white wings, visits all the
places that had
been particularly dear to the child, where it
gathers a handful of
flowers, flying up again to
heaven with them,
and there they bloom more
beautifully than on earth: but that flower which it
loves the most
receives a voice, so that it can join in the
universal chorus of
thanksgiving and
praise."
Thus spoke an angel whilst carrying a dead child up
to heaven; and the
child listened as in a dream; and they visited the
places that had been
most dear to the child whilst alive, and where it
had played, passing
through gardens full of the most beautiful
flowers. "What flowers shall we take
with us to plant in heaven," the angel
asked.
They gathered of the beautiful plants, the perfume
and the colours of
which delighted mankind: but the despised buttercup and
the wild pansy,
they took with them
also.
"Now
we have flowers," said the child, and the
angel nodded. But they still
did not fly
up
to heaven.
It was night and all was quiet; but yet they
remained in the large town, hovering over
one of the narrowest streets,
where there were heaps of straw, ashes and all
manner of rubbish, for
it was quarter day, when many people change their
lodgings. There lay
broken plates, pieces of plaster, the crowns of old
hats, and rags of
all sorts - in short, a mass of things in no way
pleasing to the eye.
The angel pointed down among
all the rubbish to some pieces of a
broken flower pot, and a
lump of earth which had
fallen out of it held
together by the roots of a large dried up wild
flower, which had been
thrown into the street as useless. "That we will
take with us." the angel said: "I will tell you why
as we fly
on."
'And this is what the angel
then said.' "There
below in that narrow street in a cellar, lived a
poor, sick boy, who
from his earliest years has been bedridden. When at
his best he could
manage to walk around the room a couple of
times on his
crutches, and
that was all. He only knew of the green forest by
the son of a
neighbour bringing him the first branch of a beech
tree that was out in
leaf, which he held over his head fancying that he
was in the forest
under the beech trees, with the sun shining and the
thirds singing.
One day in spring the neighbours son brought him
wild flowers, amongst
which there happened to be one that had its roots,
and it was therefore
set in a pot and placed near his bed. The flower
flourished, sending
forth new shoots and blossomed every year so that
it became the sick
boys flower garden, his greatest comfort
and treasure here on earth. He
watered it and watched it every day, taking care
that it had even to
the last ray of sun which glided through the low
window.
The
flower became identified with his dreams, for it
was for him alone it
blossomed, delighting him by its scent and
beautiful colours, and to it
he turned in death. It is now a year that he has
been in heaven, and
for a year the flower has stood, forgotten and
dried up. "And how do you know all this?" the
child asked. "I know it," the angel answered, "
because I myself was the poor sick boy who walked
on crutches and I know my flower well." In
the window,
till during the moving, it was thrown out into the
street. And that is
the flower, which we have placed in our nosegay,
for it has given more
pleasure than the most beautiful flower in the
garden of a queen."
The child now thoroughly opened her
eyes, and looked up into the
angel's beautiful face, which beamed with happiness
and at the same
moment they were in heaven, where joy and bliss
reigned. The dead child
received wings like the other angels, with whom she
flew about hand in
hand. The flowers, well they received their new
life whereas the poor
withered wild flowers of the angel received a
voice, and was able to
sing with the angels. All sang their praises and
thanksgiving, to
the child who had just arrived in heaven, and
to
the poor wild flower,
which had been thrown out amongst the rubbish in
the narrow dark
street.
Posted 14:45
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