The Selfish Giant
Oscar Wilde
    I had this story on an old 78 rpm record when I was young.  It was
    always my favorite.  I played it over and over.  It always made
    me cry, and I didn't know why at the time.  Sadly though I have
    no idea where it went as time went by, but I have never forgotten
    the story, and it still makes me cry...

    Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant's garden.It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass.

    Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers likestars, and there were twelve peach-trees that in the spring-time broke out into delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, and in autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to
    stop their games in order to listen to them. "How happy we are here!"  they cried to each other.
     
    One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his  friend the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years. When he arrived he saw the children  \playing in the garden.
    "What are you doing here?"
    he cried in a very gruff voice,and the children ran away

    "My own garden is my own garden" he roared.
    "Any one can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself."

    So he built a high wall all round it, and put up a  notice-board.
    TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED

He was a very selfish Giant.
The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the road, but the road was very
dusty and full of hard stones. They used to wander round the high wall when their lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside. "How happy we were there."

Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds.

Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still winter. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom.


 

Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but
when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the children
that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to
sleep.
The only people who were pleased were the Snow and
the Frost. "Spring has forgotten this garden," they cried, "so
we will live here all the year round." The Snow covered up
the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all
the trees silver. Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them and he came.  He was wrapped in furs, and he
roared all day about the garden and blew the chimney pots down.
"This is a delightful spot," he said, "we must ask the Hail on a visit."  So the hail came.  Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle til he broke most of the slates and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go.  He was dressed in gray and his breath was like ice.
"I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,"
said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked
out at his cold white garden; "I hope there will be a change in the weather."


But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to
the Giant's garden she gave none. "He is too selfish," she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost,
and the Snow danced about through the trees.

One morning the Giant was awakened by the sound of lovely music.  It sounded so sweet to his ears he thought it must be the King's musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet singing outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the world.
Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North
Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him
through the open casement. "I believe the Spring has come at
last," said the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and looked out. What did he see?


He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the
wall the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the
branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little child. And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children's heads.

The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and
the flowers were looking up through the green grass and
laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still
winter. It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was
standing a little boy. He was so small that he could not reach
up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it. "Climb up! little boy," said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy was too tiny.
And the Giant's heart melted as he looked out. "How selfish
I have been!" he said; "now I know why the Spring would not
come here. I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children's playground for ever and ever." He was really
very sorry for what he had done.
So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite
softly, and went out into the garden. But when the children
saw him they were so frightened that they all ran away, and
the garden became winter again. Only the little boy did not
run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see the
Giant coming. And the Giant stole up behind him and took
him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree. And the
tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang
on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung
them round the Giant's neck, and kissed him.
And the other children,  when they saw that the
Giant was not wicked any longer, came running back.
And with them came the Spring.
"It is your garden now, little children," said the Giant, and he
took a great axe and knocked down the wall. And when the
people were going to market at twelve o'clock they found the
Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden
they had ever seen.
All day long they played, and in the evening they came to
the Giant to bid him good-bye.
"But where is your little companion?" he said: "the boy I put
into the tree." The Giant loved him the best because he had
flung his arms around the giant and kissed him.
"We don't know," answered the children; "he has gone
away."
"You must tell him to be sure and come here tomorrow,"
said the Giant. But the children said that they did not know
where he lived, and had never seen him before; and the Giant
felt very sad.

Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came
and played with the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant
loved was never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the
children, yet he longed for his first little friend, and often
spoke of him. "How I would like to see him!" he used to say.
Years went by, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He
could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair,
and watched the children at their games, and admired his
garden. "I have many beautiful flowers," he said; "but the
children are the most beautiful flowers of all."
One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was
dressing. He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it
was merely the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were
resting.
Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and
looked. It certainly was a marvellous sight. In the farthest
corner of the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely
white blossoms. Its branches were all golden, and silver fruit
hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little boy
he had loved.

Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the
garden. He hastened across the grass, and came near to the
child. And when he came quite close his face grew red with
anger, and he said,
"Who hath dared to wound thee?"
For on the palms of the child's hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.
"Who hath dared to wound thee?"
cried the Giant;
"tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay him."

"Nay!" answered the child; "but these are the wounds of
Love."
"Who art thou?"
said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knealt
before the little child.
And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him,

      "You once let me play in your garden..today you shall come
      with me to my garden...
      WHICH IS PARADISE."
           
And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the
Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.