Graphic design also by Harlow Berny
Retold by Harlow Berny
Centuries ago, in a long forgotten kingdom, there was a simple mother who had a child of seven years of age who was so handsome and lovable that whomever crossed his path and saw him would immediately have a smile upon their face. His mother had cherished him above all else in her life. It just so happens that this child became sick with a common cold; God had decided to bring the child to himself, and the mother could not contain her grief and wept both day and night. Soon after the funeral, however, an apparition of the child would appear at night in places that the child had been when he was alive. Whenever the mother wept, the ghost would weep as well, and he would disappear when the sun rose. The mother still wept day and night, but on one of those nights, the ghost appeared in the white shroud he was buried in with a wreath of flowers on his head. He walked to the foot of his mother’s bed and said to her, “Mommy, please don’t cry for me at night anymore, or I may never rest in my coffin, for my shroud will not dry in the cold, sunless night whilst your tears fall upon it.” When the mother heard this, she immediately choked back her tears and took deep breaths, waiting for the sun to shine until she wept again. The next night, the child came back, this time holding a bright, glowing cloth in his hands. ”Look, Mommy,” said the child, “my shroud is dry, now I can rest and go to heaven!” The mother hugged her child, said one last goodbye, and saw her child’s ghost fade away as the sun shone upon him. She continued to cry in the day, but she cried less knowing that her son was in a brighter, dryer place.
Editor: Reneé Vazquez
Re-Telling of Grimm’s
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