FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN THE JEWISH MAIDEN

                                       1872

                     FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

                               THE JEWISH MAIDEN

                           by Hans Christian Andersen

    IN a charity school, among the children, sat a little Jewish girl.

She was a good, intelligent child, and very quick at her lessons;

but the Scripture-lesson class she was not allowed to join, for this

was a Christian school. During the hour of this lesson, the Jewish

girl was allowed to learn her geography, or to work her sum for the

next day; and when her geography lesson was perfect, the book remained

open before her, but she read not another word, for she sat silently

listening to the words of the Christian teacher. He soon became

aware that the little one was paying more attention to what he said

than most of the other children. "Read your book, Sarah," he said to

her gently.

    But again and again he saw her dark, beaming eyes fixed upon

him; and once, when he asked her a question, she could answer him even

better than the other children. She had not only heard, but understood

his words, and pondered them in her heart. Her father, a poor but

honest man, had placed his daughter at the school on the conditions

that she should not be instructed in the Christian faith. But it might

have caused confusion, or raised discontent in the minds of the

other children if she had been sent out of the room, so she

remained; and now it was evident this could not go on. The teacher

went to her father, and advised him to remove his daughter from the

school, or to allow her to become a Christian. "I cannot any longer be

an idle spectator of those beaming eyes, which express such a deep and

earnest longing for the words of the gospel," said he.

    Then the father burst into tears. "I know very little of the law

of my fathers," said he; "but Sarah's mother was firm in her belief as

a daughter of Israel, and I vowed to her on her deathbed that our

child should never be baptized. I must keep my vow: it is to me even

as a covenant with God Himself." And so the little Jewish girl left

the Christian school.

    Years rolled by. In one of the smallest provincial towns, in a

humble household, lived a poor maiden of the Jewish faith, as a

servant. Her hair was black as ebony, her eye dark as night, yet

full of light and brilliancy so peculiar to the daughters of the east.

It was Sarah. The expression in the face of the grown-up maiden was

still the same as when, a child, she sat on the schoolroom form

listening with thoughtful eyes to the words of the Christian

teacher. Every Sunday there sounded forth from a church close by the

tones of an organ and the singing of the congregation. The Jewish girl

heard them in the house where, industrious and faithful in all things,

she performed her household duties. "Thou shalt keep the Sabbath

holy," said the voice of the law in her heart; but her Sabbath was a

working day among the Christians, which was a great trouble to her.

And then as the thought arose in her mind, "Does God reckon by days

and hours?" her conscience felt satisfied on this question, and she

found it a comfort to her, that on the Christian Sabbath she could

have an hour for her own prayers undisturbed. The music and singing of

the congregation sounded in her ears while at work in her kitchen,

till the place itself became sacred to her. Then she would read in the

Old Testament, that treasure and comfort to her people, and it was

indeed the only Scriptures she could read. Faithfully in her inmost

thoughts had she kept the words of her father to her teacher when

she left the school, and the vow he had made to her dying mother

that she should never receive Christian baptism. The New Testament

must remain to her a sealed book, and yet she knew a great deal of its

teaching, and the sound of the gospel truths still lingered among

the recollections of her childhood.

    One evening she was sitting in a corner of the dining-room,

while her master read aloud. It was not the gospel he read, but an old

story-book; therefore she might stay and listen to him. The story

related that a Hungarian knight, who had been taken prisoner by a

Turkish pasha, was most cruelly treated by him. He caused him to be

yoked with his oxen to the plough, and driven with blows from the whip

till the blood flowed, and he almost sunk with exhaustion and pain.

The faithful wife of the knight at home gave up all her jewels,

mortgaged her castle and land, and his friends raised large sums to

make up the ransom demanded for his release, which was most enormously

high. It was collected at last, and the knight released from slavery

and misery. Sick and exhausted, he reached home.

    Ere long came another summons to a struggle with the foes of

Christianity. The still living knight heard the sound; he could endure

no more, he had neither peace nor rest. He caused himself to be lifted

on his war-horse; the color came into his cheeks, and his strength

returned to him again as he went forth to battle and to victory. The

very same pasha who had yoked him to the plough, became his

prisoner, and was dragged to a dungeon in the castle. But an hour

had scarcely passed, when the knight stood before the captive pasha,

and inquired, "What do you suppose awaiteth thee?"

    "I know," replied the pasha; "retribution."

    "Yes, the retribution of a Christian," replied the knight. "The

teaching of Christ, the Teacher, commands us to forgive our enemies,

to love our neighbors; for God is love. Depart in peace: return to thy

home. I give thee back to thy loved ones. But in future be mild and

humane to all who are in trouble."

    Then the prisoner burst into tears, and exclaimed, "Oh how could I

imagine such mercy and forgiveness! I expected pain and torment. It

seemed to me so sure that I took poison, which I secretly carried

about me; and in a few hours its effects will destroy me. I must

die! Nothing can save me! But before I die, explain to me the teaching

which is so full of love and mercy, so great and God-like. Oh, that

I may hear his teaching, and die a Christian!" And his prayer was

granted.

    This was the legend which the master read out of the old

story-book. Every one in the house who was present listened, and

shared the pleasure; but Sarah, the Jewish girl, sitting so still in a

corner, felt her heart burn with excitement. Great tears came into her

shining dark eyes; and with the same gentle piety with which she had

once listened to the gospel while sitting on the form at school, she

felt its grandeur now, and the tears rolled down her cheeks. Then

the last words of her dying mother rose before her, "Let not my

child become a Christian;" and with them sounded in her heart the

words of the law, "Honor thy father and thy mother."

    "I am not admitted among the Christians," she said; "they mock

me as a Jewish girl; the neighbors' boys did so last Sunday when I

stood looking in through the open church door at the candles burning

on the altar, and listening to the singing. Ever since I sat on the

school-bench I have felt the power of Christianity; a power which,

like a sunbeam, streams into my heart, however closely I may close

my eyes against it. But I will not grieve thee, my mother, in thy

grave. I will not be unfaithful to my father's vow. I will not read

the Bible of the Christian. I have the God of my fathers, and in Him I

will trust."

    And again years passed by. Sarah's master died, and his widow

found herself in such reduced circumstances that she wished to dismiss

her servant maid; but Sarah refused to leave the house, and she became

a true support in time of trouble, and kept the household together

by working till late at night, with her busy hands, to earn their

daily bread. Not a relative came forward to assist them, and the widow

was confined to a sick bed for months and grew weaker from day to day.

Sarah worked hard, but contrived to spare time to amuse her and

watch by the sick bed. She was gentle and pious, an angel of

blessing in that house of poverty.

    "My Bible lies on the table yonder," said the sick woman one day

to Sarah. "Read me something from it; the night appears so long, and

my spirit thirsts to hear the word of God."

    And Sarah bowed her head. She took the book, and folded her hand

over the Bible of the Christians, and at last opened it, and read to

the sick woman. Tears stood in her eyes as she read, and they shone

with brightness, for in her heart it was light.

    "Mother," she murmured, "thy child may not receive Christian

baptism, nor be admitted into the congregation of Christian people.

Thou hast so willed it, and I will respect thy command. We are

therefore still united here on earth; but in the next world there will

be a higher union, even with God Himself, who leads and guides His

people till death. He came down from heaven to earth to suffer for us,

that we should bring forth the fruits of repentance. I understand it

now. I know not how I learnt this truth, unless it is through the name

of Christ." Yet she trembled as she pronounced the holy name. She

struggled against these convictions of the truth of Christianity for

some days, till one evening while watching her mistress she was

suddenly taken very ill; her limbs tottered under her, and she sank

fainting by the bedside of the sick woman.

    "Poor Sarah," said the neighbors; "she is overcome with hard

work and night watching." And then they carried her to the hospital

for the sick poor. There she died; and they bore her to her

resting-place in the earth, but not to the churchyard of the

Christians. There was no place for the Jewish girl; but they dug a

grave for her outside the wall. And God's sun, which shines upon the

graves of the churchyard of the Christians, also throws its beams on

the grave of the Jewish maiden beyond the wall. And when the psalms of

the Christians sound across the churchyard, their echo reaches her

lonely resting-place; and she who sleeps there will be counted

worthy at the resurrection, through the name of Christ the Lord, who

said to His disciples, "John baptized you with water, but I will

baptize you with the Holy Ghost."

                            THE END