Thumbelina and the Flower of Birth

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Once upon a time, there lived an old woman who lived alone in a small cottage at the edge of the forest. She was kind and hardworking, but her heart was full of longing. She often sat by the window and gazed out into the distance, where children frolicked across the meadows, and she longed for nothing more than to have a child by her side. But the years had passed, and her wish remained unfulfilled. One evening, as the rain drummed softly against the windowpanes, there was a knock at her door. A woman stood there, as strange as she was beautiful. Her dress shimmered as if it were woven from leaves and dew, and her eyes shone like starlight. She carried a small bag, which she handed to the old woman. "If your heart longs for a child," she spoke in a gentle voice, "plant this seed. It will give you what you desire, if you have patience and love." The old woman gratefully accepted the gift, and as soon as the stranger had disappeared, she found a flowerpot, filled it with fresh soil, and planted the seed. She placed it on the windowsill and watered it with a drop of water, which she carefully scooped from the jug. The next morning, the miracle had already happened: From the earth grew a plant, slender and green, and soon a bud opened, in full bloom like a tulip. Astonished, the woman bent over the flower and could hardly believe her eyes. For inside the blossom lay a little girl, no taller than a finger, with delicate limbs and golden-blonde hair that shimmered in the morning light. The girl was asleep, her hands tucked under her chin, breathing so gently that it was barely audible. The old woman gently lifted the blossom, and the child opened her eyes. They were as clear as dewdrops, and a smile flitted across her face. "Thumbelina," the woman whispered with emotion, and so her name stuck. From then on, the old woman's life was fulfilling. She made the little girl a bed from a walnut shell, carefully hollowed out and lined with rose petals. For a blanket, she chose the softest leaf from her garden. When the sun went down, she placed Thumbelina in the shell, placed it on the dresser, and watched as the tiny girl closed her eyes and fell asleep peacefully. During the day, Thumbelina jumped across the table, played with buttons and spools of thread, and drank from a thimbleful of water. Her laughter sounded like the ringing of bells, and the old woman forgot all her loneliness. But most of all, the little girl loved to rest in her shell, which seemed to her like a tiny boat floating on mysterious waves.