Oscar Wilde

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Retold by The Legendary Connection

TLC#00144

Every day after school, the children loved to play in a beautiful garden that belonged to a giant. The garden was large and lovely, with soft green grass and flowers as bright as stars. Twelve peach trees grew there, blossoming with pink and pearl flowers in the spring, and bearing sweet, juicy fruit in the fall. Birds filled the trees, singing so beautifully that the children would stop their games just to listen. “We are so lucky to play here!” they’d say to each other, smiling.

But one day, the Giant returned home. He had been away for a long time, visiting his friend, the Cornish Ogre, and stayed there for seven whole years. When he finally decided to come back, he was shocked to see the children in his garden.

“What are you doing here?” he shouted in a loud, gruff voice, and the children quickly ran away.

“This is my garden!” the Giant declared. “Everyone should know that. I won’t allow anyone else to play here except me!” So, he built a tall wall all around the garden and put up a sign that read:

TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED

The Giant was very selfish.

Now, the poor children had nowhere to play. They tried to play on the dusty, stony road, but it wasn’t the same. Every day after school, they’d walk sadly around the high wall, talking about the beautiful garden inside. “We were so happy there,” they’d say, feeling a bit sadder each time.

Soon, spring arrived, and little flowers and birds appeared all over the land—except in the Giant’s garden. In his garden, it stayed winter. The birds didn’t want to sing without children, and the trees forgot how to bloom. Once, a single flower poked its head out of the ground, but when it saw the sign, it felt so sorry for the children that it slipped back underground and went back to sleep.

Only the Snow and the Frost were happy. “Spring has forgotten this garden,” they said with glee, “so we can stay here all year!” The Snow covered the grass in a thick white blanket, and the Frost painted all the trees in silver. Then, they invited the North Wind to stay, and he came, bundled in furs and roaring as he blew around the garden, even knocking down a few chimney-pots. “This place is perfect,” said the North Wind. “Let’s invite the Hail, too.” So, the Hail came, rattling on the castle roof each day and running around the garden in circles, looking like a little grey ghost.

The Selfish Giant could not understand why spring never arrived in his garden. He looked out at the icy garden from his window and grumbled, “Why is it still so cold? I hope the weather changes soon.”

But spring never came, nor summer. Autumn visited every garden, bringing golden fruit to all—but the Giant’s garden stayed cold and empty. “He’s too selfish,” said Autumn, and she gave nothing to his trees.

One morning, the Giant lay in bed and heard a beautiful sound. “Is that music?” he thought, “maybe the King’s musicians are passing by.” But it was only a little bird singing outside his window. It had been so long since he’d heard a bird in his garden that it seemed like the most beautiful music in the world. The North Wind stopped roaring, and the Hail stopped rattling, while a sweet scent drifted through his open window. “I think spring has finally come!” he exclaimed, jumping out of bed to look outside.

What did he see?

He saw the most wonderful sight. Through a tiny hole in the wall, the children had crept in, and they were now sitting in the branches of the trees. Every tree held a child, and each tree was so happy to see them that it had covered itself with blossoms. The birds were flitting and singing, and the flowers peeked out from the grass, laughing joyfully. It was a beautiful scene—except for one spot in the farthest corner of the garden, where it was still winter. In this spot stood a little boy who was too small to climb into a tree. He wandered around, looking up at the branches, and crying softly. The tree bent down as low as it could, whispering, “Climb up, little one!” But the boy was just too tiny.

The Giant’s heart melted. “How selfish I have been!” he said. “Now I understand why spring didn’t want to come here. I will help that little boy, and from now on, this garden will be a playground for all the children forever.”

He tiptoed downstairs, opened the front door, and walked into the garden. But when the children saw him, they were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden quickly turned back to winter. Only the little boy didn’t run away—his eyes were so full of tears that he hadn’t even noticed the Giant coming.

The Giant gently approached the little boy and lifted him into the tree. Right away, the tree burst into blossom, the birds began to sing, and the little boy threw his arms around the Giant’s neck, giving him a warm hug. The other children, seeing that the Giant wasn’t mean anymore, came running back, bringing spring with them.

“It’s your garden now, little children,” said the Giant. He took an axe and tore down the tall wall around the garden. Later that day, when people passed by on their way to town, they saw the Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.

All day long, the children played in the garden. As evening came, they waved goodbye to the Giant. “But where is your little friend?” he asked, looking for the boy he had helped into the tree. “He’s the one I love most because he gave me a hug.”

“We don’t know where he is,” answered the children. “We’ve never seen him before.”

“Please, tell him to come tomorrow,” said the Giant. But the children didn’t know where the little boy lived, and the Giant felt a bit sad.

Every day after school, the children came to play with the Giant in his garden. Though he grew to love them all, he always hoped to see the little boy again. He often said, “How I would love to see him just once more.”

Years passed, and the Giant grew old and could no longer play. He spent his days sitting in a large chair, watching the children play and admiring his beautiful garden. “I have many wonderful flowers,” he’d say, “but the children are the most beautiful of all.”

One winter morning, as he looked out his window, he saw an amazing sight. In the farthest corner of the garden stood a tree covered in delicate white blossoms, with golden branches and silver fruit. Underneath it stood the little boy he had loved so dearly.

The Giant hurried outside with joy, crossing the garden as quickly as he could. When he reached the boy, he noticed something unusual—there were marks on the boy’s hands and feet, like tiny scars. The Giant was filled with concern.

“Who hurt you?” he asked gently. “Tell me, and I will take my big sword and protect you.”

The little boy smiled. “These are wounds of love,” he replied.

The Giant felt a strange sense of awe and asked, “Who are you?”

The boy’s smile grew even brighter. “You once let me play in your garden, dear Giant. Today, you will come with me to my garden, which is called Paradise.”

When the children came to the garden that afternoon, they found the Giant lying peacefully under the tree, his heart full of joy, surrounded by soft white blossoms.

---. “The Happy Prince, and Other Tales.” Https://Www.gutenberg.org/Files/902/902-h/902-H.htm, 1 May 1997, gutenberg.org/cache/epub/902/pg902-images.html#chap03. Accessed 26 July 2024.