Well, the matter with me is, she said, that I cannot collect my thoughts, and am unable to grasp the meaning of what you said to-day in church-that there are so many wicked people, and that they should burn eternally. What is the matter with you? he asked her. The same evening, upon going to bed, the pastor noticed his wife sitting there quiet and pensive. Indeed, outside it was not at all like the pastor’s sermon. Meanwhile, the birds sang merrily outside, and the sun was shining so beautifully warm, it seemed as though every little flower said: God, Thy kindness towards us all is without limits. There was no air beside the hot burning sulphur flame, and there was no ground under their feet they, the wicked ones, sank deeper and deeper, while eternal silence surrounded them! It was dreadful to hear all that, for the preacher spoke from his heart, and all the people in the church were terrified. That was terrible to hear, and he said it in such a tone of conviction he described hell to them as a miserable hole where all the refuse of the world gathers. He spoke very excitedly, saying that their evil propensities would not be destroyed, nor would the fire be extinguished, and they should never find rest. He said that all men were wicked, and God would punish them for their sins, and that the wicked, when they died, would be cast into hell, to burn for ever and ever. But inside the church the pastor stood in the pulpit, and spoke very loudly and angrily. The day was so warm and beautiful that one might well have said: God’s kindness to us men is beyond all limits.

There was a look of cheerfulness on everything. All the bells were ringing, and all the people went to church, looking cheerful, and dressed in their best clothes. And when one looked at the fields, how beautifully the corn stood and how green it shone, without comparison! and there was a twittering and a fluttering of all the little birds, as if the day were a great festival and so it was, for it was Sunday. They had hastened to bring forth flowers before they got green leaves, and in the yard all the ducklings walked up and down, and the cat too: it basked in the sun and licked the sunshine from its own paws. In the garden all the apple-trees were in blossom.

Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875) was a Danish writer, best remembered for his fairy tales. This carefully crafted ebook: 'The Complete Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen (127 Stories in one volume)' is formatted for your eReader with a functional and detailed table of contents.

The complete fairy tales and stories