A fairytale for all children of all wars
Our Mother Earth
Сказка для всех детей всех войн Hашeй Матери-Земли
Bajka dla wszystkich dzieci wszystkich wojen
قصة لجميع أطفال الحروب على سطع الأرض الأم
Naszej Matki Ziemi
Andersen's fairy tale Angel
“WHENEVER a good child dies, an angel of God comes down
from heaven, takes the dead child in his arms, spreads out his great
white wings, and flies with him over all the places which the child
had loved during his life. Then he gathers a large handful of
flowers, which he carries up to the Almighty, that they may bloom
more brightly in heaven than they do on earth. And the Almighty
presses the flowers to His heart, but He kisses the flower that
pleases Him best, and it receives a voice, and is able to join the
song of the chorus of bliss.” These words were spoken by an angel
of God, as he carried a dead child up to heaven, and the child
listened as if in a dream. Then they passed over wellknown spots,
where the little one had often played, and through beautiful
gardens full of lovely flowers.
“Which of these shall we take with us to heaven to be transplanted
there?” asked the angel.
Close by grew a slender, beautiful, rose-bush, but some wicked
hand had broken the stem, and the half-opened rosebuds hung
faded and withered on the trailing branches.
“Poor rose-bush!” said the child, “let us take it with us to heaven,
that it may bloom above in God’s garden.”
The angel took up the rose-bush; then he kissed the child, and the
little one half opened his eyes. The angel gathered also some
beautiful flowers, as well as a few humble buttercups and heart’s-
“Now we have flowers enough,” said the child; but the angel only
nodded, he did not fly upward to heaven.
It was night, and quite still in the great town. Here they remained,
and the angel hovered over a small, narrow street, in which lay a
large heap of straw, ashes, and sweepings from the houses of
people who had removed. There lay fragments of plates, pieces of
plaster, rags, old hats, and other rubbish not pleasant to see.
Amidst all this confusion, the angel pointed to the pieces of a
broken flower-pot, and to a lump of earth which had fallen out of
it. The earth had been kept from falling to pieces by the roots of a
withered field-flower, which had been thrown amongst the
“We will take this with us,” said the angel, “I will tell you why as
we fly along.” And as they flew the angel related the history.
“Down in that narrow lane, in a low cellar, lived a poor sick boy;
he had been afflicted from his childhood, and even in his best days
he could just manage to walk up and down the room on crutches
once or twice, but no more. During some days in summer, the
sunbeams would lie on the floor of the cellar for about half an
hour. In this spot the poor sick boy would sit warming himself in
the sunshine,and watching the red blood through his delicate
fingers as he held them before his face. Then he would say he had
been out, yet he knew nothing of the green forest in its spring
verdure, till a neighbor’s son brought him a green bough from a
beech-tree. This he would place over his head, and fancy that he
was in the beech-wood while the sun shone, and the birds carolled
gayly. One spring day the neighbor’s boy brought him some field-
flowers, and among them was one to which the root still adhered.
This he carefully planted in a flower-pot, and placed in a window-
seat near his bed. And the flower had been planted by a
fortunatehand, for it grew, put forth fresh shoots, and blossomed
every year. It became a splendid flower-garden to the sick boy, and
his little treasure upon earth. He watered it, and cherished it, and
took care it should have the benefit of every sunbeam that found its
way into the cellar, from the earliest morning ray to the evening
sunset. The flower entwined itself even in his dreams- for him it
bloomed, for him spread its perfume. And it gladdened his eyes,
and to the flower he turned, even in death, when the Lord called
him. He has been one year with God. During that time the flower
has stood in the window, withered and forgotten, till at length cast
out among the sweepings into the street, on the day of the lodgers’
removal. And this poor flower, withered and faded as it is, we
have added to our nosegay, because it gave more real joy than the
most beautiful flower in the garden of a queen.” “But how do you
know all this?” asked the child whom the angel was carrying to
“I know it,” said the angel, “because I myself was the poor sick boy
who walked upon crutches, and I know my own flower well.”
Then the child opened his eyes and looked into the glorious happy
face of the angel, and at the same moment they found themselves
in that heavenly home where all is happiness and joy. And God
pressed the dead child to His heart, and wings were given him so
that he could fly with the angel, hand in hand. Then the Almighty
pressed all the flowers to His heart; but He kissed the withered
fieldflower, and it received a voice. Then it joined in the song of the
angels, who surrounded the throne, some near, and others in a
distant circle, but all equally happy. They all joined in the chorus of
praise, both great and small,- the good, happy child, and the poor
field-flower, that once lay withered and cast away on a heap of
rubbish in a narrow, dark street.
Terrified Children and their Guardian Angels !
Испуганные дети и их Ангелы-хранители
Przerażone Dzieci i ich Anioły Stróże
الأطفال المرتعبة و ملائكتهم التي تحميهم!
Oh life, I love thee, love thee above all else !
Ах жизнь, люблю тебя! Cильнее жизни я тебя люблю!
Och życie Kocham Cię Kocham Cię nad życie !
اه ايتها الحياة أحبك أحبك بقدر لا يوصف!
Mother Earth, turn off the inhuman indifference gene !
Мать-Земля, выключи тот, отнюдь не человеческий, ген равнодушия и безразличия!
Matko Ziemio wyłącz nieludzki gen obojętności !
أيتها الأم الأرض أطفئ عنصر اللامبالاة الغير إنساني!
Turn off time, we want to repair the mechanism of the world!
Пусть время замерет хоть на мгновение, хотим восстановить разрушенный механизм мира!
Wyłączcie czas, chcemy naprawić mechanizm świata !
اوقفوا الوقت، نريد إصلاح آلية الكون!