天上落下来的一片叶子的故事
在稀薄的、清爽的空气中，有一个安琪儿拿着天上花园中的一朵花在高高地飞。当她在吻着这朵花的时候，有一小片花瓣落到树林中潮湿的地上。这花瓣马上就生了根，并且在许多别的植物中间冒出芽来。
“这真是一根很滑稽的插枝。”别的植物说。蓟和荨麻都不认识它。
“这一定是花园里长的一种植物!”它们说，并且还发出一声冷笑。它们认为它是花园里的一种植物而开它的玩笑。但是它跟别的植物不同;它在不停地生长;它把长枝子向四面伸开来。
“你要伸到什么地方去呢?”高大的蓟说。它的每片叶子都长满了刺。“你占的地方太多!这真是岂有此理!我们可不能扶持你呀!”
冬天来了;雪把植物盖住了。不过雪层上发出光，好像有太阳从底下照上来似的。在春天的时候，这棵植物开出花来;它比树林里的任何植物都要美丽。
这时来了一位植物学教授。他有许多学位来说明他的身份。他对这棵植物望了一眼，检验了一番;但是他发现他的植物体系内没有这种东西。他简直没有办法把它分类。
“它是一种变种!”他说。“我不认识它，它不属于任何一科!”
“不属于任何一科!”蓟和荨麻说。
周围的许多大树都听到了这些话。它们也看出来了，这种植物不属于它们的系统。但是它们什么话也不说——不说坏话，也不说好话。对于傻子说来，这是一种最聪明的办法。
这时有一个贫苦的天真女孩子走过树林。她的心很纯洁;因为她有信心，所以她的理解力很强。她全部的财产只是一部很旧的《圣经》，不过她在每页书上都听见上帝的声音：如果有人想对你做坏事，你要记住约瑟的故事——“他们在心里想着坏事情，但是上帝把它变成最好的东西。”如果你受到委屈，被人误解或者被人侮辱，你只须记住上帝：他是一个最纯洁、最善良的人。他为那些讥笑他和把他钉上十字架的人祈祷：“天父，请原谅他们吧，他们不知道他们自己在做什么事情!”
女孩子站在这棵稀奇的植物面前——它的绿叶发出甜蜜和清新的香气，它的花朵在太阳光中射出五光十色的焰火般的光彩。每朵花发出一种音乐，好像它里面有一股音乐的泉水，几千年也流不尽。女孩子怀着虔诚的心情，望着造物主的这些美丽的创造。她顺手把一根枝条拉过来，细看它上面的花朵，闻一闻这些花朵的香气。她心里轻松起来，感到一种愉快。她很想摘下一朵花，但是她不忍把它折断，因为这样花就会凋谢了。她只是摘下一片绿叶。她把它带回家来，夹在《圣经》里。叶子在这本书里永远保持新鲜，从来没有凋谢。
叶子就这样藏在《圣经》里。几个星期以后，当这女孩子躺在棺材里的时候，《圣经》就放在她的头底下。她安静的脸上露出了一种庄严的、死后的虔诚的表情，好像她的这个尘世的躯壳，就说明她现在已经是在上帝面前。
但是那棵奇异的植物仍然在树林里开着花。它很快就要长成一棵树了。许多候鸟，特别是鹳鸟和燕子，都飞到这儿来，在它面前低头致敬。
“这东西已经有点洋派头了!”蓟和牛蒡说。“我们这些本乡生长的植物从来没有这副样子!”
黑蜗牛实际上已经在这植物身上吐粘液了。
这时有一个猪倌来了。他正在采集荨麻和蔓藤，目的是要把它们烧出一点灰来。这棵奇异的植物也被连根拔起来了，扎在一个柴捆里。“也叫它能够有点用处!”他说，同时他也就这样做了。
但是这个国家的君主多少年以来一直害着很重的忧郁病。他是非常忙碌和勤俭，但是这对他的病却没有什么帮助。人们念些深奥的书给他听，或念些世上最轻松的读物给他听，但这对他的病也没有什么好处。人们请教世界上一个最聪明的人，这人派来一个信使。信使对大家说，要减轻和治好国王的病，现在只有一种药方。“在国王的领土里，有一个树林里长着一棵来自天上的植物。它的形状是如此这般，人们决不会弄错。”这儿还附带有一张关于这棵植物的图解，谁一看就可以认得出来。“它不论在冬天或夏天都是绿的。人们只须每天晚上摘下一片新鲜的叶子，把它放在国王的额上，那么国王的头脑就会变得清新，他夜间就会做一个美丽的梦，他第二天也就会有精神了。”
这个说明已经是够清楚了。所有的医生和那位植物学教授都到树林里去——是的，不过这棵植物在什么地方呢?
“我想我已经把它扎进柴捆里去了!”猪倌说，“它早就已经烧成灰了。别的事情我不知道!”
“你不知道!”大家齐声说。“啊，愚蠢啊!愚蠢啊!你是多么伟大啊!”
猪倌听到这话可能感到非常难过，因为这是专讲给他一个人听的。
他们连一片叶子也没有找到。那唯一的一片叶子是藏在那个死女孩的棺材里，而这事情谁也不知道。
于是国王在极度的忧郁中亲自走到树林中的那块地方去。
“那棵植物曾经在这儿生长过!”他说。“这是一块神圣的地方!”
于是这块地的周围就竖起了一道金栏杆。有一个哨兵日夜在这儿站岗。
植物学教授写了一篇关于这棵天上植物的论文。他凭这篇论文得到了勋章。这对他说来是一件很愉快的事情，而且对于他和他的家庭也非常相称。事实上这是这整个故事最有趣的一段，因为这棵植物不见了。国王仍然是忧郁和沮丧的。
“不过他一直是这样。”哨兵说。
天上落下来的一片叶子的故事英文版
A Leaf from Heaven
High up in the clear, pure air flew an angel, with a flower plucked from the garden of heaven. As he was kissing the flower a very little leaf fell from it and sunk down into the soft earth in the middle of a wood. It immediately took root, sprouted, and sent out shoots among the other plants.
“What a ridiculous little shoot!” said one. “No one will recognize it; not even the thistle nor the stinging-nettle.”
“It must be a kind of garden plant,” said another; and so they sneered and despised the plant as a thing from a garden.
“Where are you coming?” said the tall thistles whose leaves were all armed with thorns. “It is stupid nonsense to allow yourself to shoot out in this way; we are not here to support you.”
Winter came, and the plant was covered with snow, but the snow glittered over it as if it had sunshine beneath as well as above.
When spring came, the plant appeared in full bloom: a more beautiful object than any other plant in the forest. And now the professor of botany presented himself, one who could explain his knowledge in black and white. He examined and tested the plant, but it did not belong to his system of botany, nor could he possibly find out to what class it did belong. “It must be some degenerate species,” said he; “I do not know it, and it is not mentioned in any system.”
“Not known in any system!” repeated the thistles and the nettles.
The large trees which grew round it saw the plant and heard the remarks, but they said not a word either good or bad, which is the wisest plan for those who are ignorant.
There passed through the forest a poor innocent girl; her heart was pure, and her understanding increased by her faith. Her chief inheritance had been an old Bible, which she read and valued. From its pages she heard the voice of God speaking to her, and telling her to remember what was said of Joseph's brethren when persons wished to injure her. “They imagined evil in their hearts, but God turned it to good.” If we suffer wrongfully, if we are misunderstood or despised, we must think of Him who was pure and holy, and who prayed for those who nailed Him to the cross, “Fath
er forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
The girl stood still before the wonderful plant, for the green leaves exhaled a sweet and refreshing fragrance, and the flowers glittered and sparkled in the sunshine like colored flames, and the harmony of sweet sounds lingered round them as if each concealed within itself a deep fount of melody, which thousands of years could not exhaust. With pious gratitude the girl looked upon this glorious work of God, and bent down over one of the branches, that she might examine the flower and inhale the sweet perfume. Then a light broke in on her mind, and her heart expanded. Gladly would she have plucked a flower, but she could not overcome her reluctance to break one off. She knew it would so soon fade; so she took only a single green leaf, carried it home, and laid it in her Bible, where it remained ever green, fresh, and unfading. Between the pages of the Bible it still lay when, a few weeks afterwards, that Bible was laid under the young girl's head in her coffin. A holy calm rested on her face, as if the earthly remains bore the impress of the truth that she now stood in the presence of God.
In the forest the wonderful plant still continued to bloom till it grew and became almost a tree, and all the birds of passage bowed themselves before it.
“That plant is a foreigner, no doubt,” said the thistles and the burdocks. “We can never conduct ourselves like that in this country.” And the black forest snails actually spat at the flower.
Then came the swineherd; he was collecting thistles and shrubs to burn them for the ashes. He pulled up the wonderful plant, roots and all, and placed it in his bundle. “This will be as useful as any,” he said; so the plant was carried away.
Not long after, the king of the country suffered from the deepest melancholy. He was diligent and industrious, but employment did him no good. They read deep and learned books to him, and then the lightest and most trifling that could be found, but all to no purpose. Then they applied for advice to one of the wise men of the world, and he sent them a message to say that there was one remedy which would relieve and cure him, and that it was a plant of heavenly origin which grew in the forest in the king's own dominions. The messenger described the flower so that is appearance could not be mistaken.
Then said the swineherd, “I am afraid I carried this plant away from the forest in my bundle, and it has been burnt to ashes long ago. But I did not know any better.”
“You did not know, any better! Ignorance upon ignorance indeed!”
The poor swineherd took these words to heart, for they were addressed to him; he knew not that there were others who were equally ignorant. Not even a leaf of the plant could be found. There was one, but it lay in the coffin of the dead; no one knew anything about it.
Then the king, in his melancholy, wandered out to the spot in the wood. “Here is where the plant stood,” he said; “it is a sacred place.” Then he ordered that the place should be surrounded with a golden railing, and a stationed near it.
The botanical professor wrote a long treatise about the heavenly plant, and for this he was loaded with gold, which improved the position of himself and his family.
And this part is really the most pleasant part of the story. For the plant had disappeared, and the king remained as melancholy and sad as ever, but the sentry said he had always been so.
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