Prevod
There was once a large wax candle, and it knew very well what it was. “I was born of wax and cast in a mould!” it said. “I shine more brightly and burn longer than other candles; my place is in a chandelier or a silver candlestick!”
“That must be a lovely life!” said the tallow candle. “I am only made of tallow, only a dipped candle, but I comfort myself with the thought that at least I am a little better than a rushlight; that is dipped only twice, while I have been dipped eight times to give me a respectable thickness. I am content! No doubt it is grander and happier to be born of wax rather than tallow, but we do not choose our own place in this world. You go into the drawing room, into a glass chandelier, while I stay in the kitchen; but that is a good place too, for it supplies the whole house with food!”
“But there is something more important than food!” said the wax candle. “Society! To see it sparkle, and to sparkle oneself! There is a ball here tonight, and soon I and my whole family will be fetched!”
Scarcely had it spoken when all the wax candles were fetched, but the tallow candle was taken along too. The lady of the house herself took it in her delicate hand and carried it out to the kitchen. A little boy stood there with a basket, which was filled with potatoes, and a couple of apples were put in as well. All this the kind lady gave to the poor boy.
“Here is a candle for you too, my little friend!” she said. “Your mother sits working far into the night, and she can use it!” The little daughter of the house was standing close by, and when she heard the words “far into the night,” she said with heartfelt delight, “I shall be up far into the night too! We are having a ball, and I shall wear my big red bows!”
How her face shone! That was joy! No wax candle can shine like a child’s two eyes! “What a blessed sight!” thought the tallow candle. “I shall never forget it, and I shall surely never see its like again!”
Then it was laid in the basket beneath the lid, and the boy carried it away. “Where am I going now?” thought the candle. “I am going to poor people, and perhaps I shall not even have a brass candlestick, while the wax candle sits in silver and sees the finest people. How lovely it must be to shine for the finest people! But it was my lot to be tallow and not wax!”
And the candle came to poor people: a widow with three children in a small, low-ceilinged room directly opposite the rich house. “God bless the kind lady for what she has given us!” said the mother. “What a lovely candle! It can burn far into the night.”
And the candle was lit. “Puff—ugh!” it said. “What a foul-smelling sulphur match she used to light me! They would hardly treat a wax candle like that over in the rich house!”
There too the candles were being lit; their light shone across the street. Carriages rumbled up with the finely dressed guests, and music rang out. “Now they are beginning over there!” the tallow candle sensed, and it thought of the little rich girl’s radiant face, brighter than all the wax candles. “I shall never see that sight again!”
Then the youngest child in the poor home came over, a little girl. She put her arms around her brother’s and sister’s necks; she had something very important to tell them, something that must be whispered: “Tonight we are going to—just think!—tonight we are going to have hot potatoes!”
And her face shone with bliss. The candle shone straight into it and saw a joy, a happiness as great as that in the rich house, where the little girl had said, “We are having a ball tonight, and I shall wear my big red bows!”
“Can having hot potatoes mean just as much?” thought the candle. “Why, the little ones here are every bit as happy!” And then it sneezed; that is to say, it sputtered, for that is all a tallow candle can do.
The table was laid, and the potatoes were eaten. Oh, how good they tasted! It was a feast, and afterwards each child had an apple, and the youngest recited the little verse:
“Dear God, I give my thanks to Thee, For once again Thou hast fed me! Amen.” “Wasn’t that nicely said, Mother?” the little girl then exclaimed. “You must not ask or say such a thing!” said her mother. “You should think only of the good God who has fed you!”
The little ones were put to bed, given a kiss, and fell asleep at once, while their mother sat sewing far into the night to earn a living for them and herself. And over in the rich house the candles shone and the music rang out. The stars twinkled above all the houses, above the rich and the poor alike, equally bright, equally blessed.
“It was really a lovely evening!” thought the tallow candle. “I wonder whether the wax candles had a better time in their silver candlesticks? I should like to know before I burn out!” And it thought of the two equally happy little girls, one lit by wax candles, the other by a tallow candle!
Yes, that is the whole story!
