where they lived, and the tall steeples of the churches, in which the sweet
bells were ringing a merry peal as they entered it, and found their way to
their grandmother’s door. They went upstairs into the little room, where all
looked just as it used to do. The old clock was going “tick, tick,” and the
hands pointed to the time of day, but as they passed through the door into
the room they perceived that they were both grown up, and become a man
and woman. The roses out on the roof were in full bloom, and peeped in at
the window; and there stood the little chairs, on which they had sat when
children; and Kay and Gerda seated themselves each on their own chair, and
held each other by the hand, while the cold empty grandeur of the Snow
Queen’s palace vanished from their memories like a painful dream. The
grandmother sat in God’s bright sunshine, and she read aloud from the
Bible, “Except ye become as little children, ye shall in no wise enter into
the kingdom of God.” And Kay and Gerda looked into each other’s eyes,
and all at once understood the words of the old song,
“Roses bloom and cease to be,
But we shall the Christ-child see.”
And they both sat there, grown up, yet children at heart; and it was
summer,-warm, beautiful summer.
