Every afternoon, after school, some children played in the large, beautiful garden of a huge deserted castle. They rolled in the long, soft grass, hid behind the bushes covered with blossom and climbed trees where the birds sung sweetly. They were very happy there.
One afternoon they were playing hide-and-seek when they heard a great voice boom out. "What are you doing in my garden?" it roared.
Trembling with fear, the children peered out of their hiding places to see a very angry giant. He had finally decided to come home after living for seven years, with his friend, the Cornish ogre. "I came back to my castle for some peace and quiet," he thundered. "I don’t want to listen to a lot of children laughing and shouting. Get out of my garden - and don’t come back."
So the children ran away, as fast as their legs would carry them.
"This garden belongs to me, and nobody else," the giant mumbled to himself. "I shall make sure that nobody else can use it." So he built a high wall all around it, with sharp iron spikes on top.
In the wall was a great iron gate, and on the gate the giant put a notice: "KEEP OUT", it read, "TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED." Every day the children poked their noses through the bars of the gate and looked longingly at the garden. Then, sadly, they wandered off to play on the hard, dusty road.
Soon the winter came. Snow covered the ground with a thick white mantle and frost painted the trees silver. The North Wind howled round the giant’s castle and hail pounded the window-panes. "How I long for the spring," the giant sighed, as he sat huddled by the fire.
At last spring came. The snow and the frost disappeared and the flowers pushed their heads up through the ground. The buds on the trees opened and the birds sang merrily - except in the giant’s garden. There the snow, the frost and the north wind still danced through the bare branches of the trees. "The spring has refused to come to this garden," they cried. "At last we have a place where we can stay forever."
One morning the giant was lying awake in bed, feeling very sorry for himself, when he heard a blackbird singing. He leapt over to the window and beamed with pleasure. The snow and the frost had gone, and every tree had burst into blossom.
Every tree also held one of the children whom the giant had frightened away. They had crept into the garden through a hole in the wall, and the spring had rushed in after them. Only one child was still standing on the ground. He was a boy who was crying bitterly because he was too small to reach even the lowest branch of the smallest tree.
The giant was moved to pity. "How selfish I have been," he said to himself. "Now I see why the spring wouldn’t come to my garden. I’ll knock down the walls and turn it into a children’s playground. But first I’ll put that poor little boy on top of a tree."
The giant crept down the stairs and into the garden, but then the children saw him they were so frightened they ran away. Only the little boy, whose eyes were so full of tears that he could not see the giant coming, stayed where he was. As the winter returned to the garden, the giant gently picked up the boy. "There’s no need to cry," he murmured softly, and he placed the boy on top of the nearest tree. Immediately the tree burst into blossom. And the boy flung his arms around the giant’s neck and kissed him.
When the children saw that the giant was kind and friendly, they came running back into the garden through the hole in the wall, followed by the spring. The giant laughed happily and joined in their games, only stopping to knock down the walls with an axe. It was sunset before he realized that he had not seen the small boy for some time.
"Where is your little friend?" he asked anxiously. But the children did not know.
Every day after school the children came to play in the giant’s beautiful garden. Every day the giant asked them the same question. "Is the little boy with you today?" And every day the answer was the same: "We don’t know where to find him. The only time we’ve ever seen him was the day you knocked down the wall."
The giant felt sad because he loved the little boy very much. Only the sight of the children playing made him happy again.
The years passed quickly and the giant grew old and weak. Soon he could no longer play with all the children.
One winter morning he was sitting by his bedroom window when he suddenly saw the most beautiful tree he had ever seen, standing in a corner of the garden. Its golden branches were covered with delicate white blossom and silver fruit - and underneath them stood the little boy.
"He’s come back at last," the giant said joyfully. Forgetting how weak his legs were, he rushed down the stairs and hurried across the garden, but as he reached the little boy his face became red with anger. "Who has hurt you?" he cried. "Why, I can see the marks of nails on your hands and feet? Old and feeble as I am, I’ll kill the people who have done this to you."
Then the child smiled gently and said, "Hush. Don’t be angry, but come with me."
"Who are you?" whispered the giant, falling to his knees.
"A long time ago you let me play in your garden," the child replied. "Now I want you come and play in mine. It’s called Paradise."
That afternoon, when the children ran into the garden to play in the snow, they found the dead giant lying peacefully under a tree, all covered with white blossom.
Story Time � 1984-1989 by Rubicon Press CC