Grandfathers -- Fiction; Mountain life -- Switzerland -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Switzerland -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
"Ah, my God!" cried a voice from the corner, "that was how Heidi
used to run in; if only I could have her with me once again! Who
is there?"
"It's I, I, grandmother," cried Heidi as she ran and flung
herself on her knees beside the old woman, and seizing her
hands, clung to her, unable to speak for joy. And the grandmother
herself could not say a word for some time, so unexpected was
this happiness; but at last she put out her hand and stroked
Heidi's curly hair, and said, "Yes, yes, that is her hair, and
her voice; thank God that He has granted my prayer!" And tears
of joy fell from the blind eyes on to Heidi's hand. "Is it really
you, Heidi; have you really come back to me?"
"Yes, grandmother, I am really here," answered Heidi in a
reassuring voice. "Do not cry, for I have really come back and I
am never going away again, and I shall come every day to see
you, and you won't have any more hard bread to eat for some days,
for look, look!"
And Heidi took the rolls from the basket and piled the whole
twelve up on grandmother's lap.
"Ah, child! child! what a blessing you bring with you!" the old
woman exclaimed, as she felt and seemed never to come to the end
of the rolls. "But you yourself are the greatest blessing,
Heidi," and again she touched the child's hair and passed her
hand over her hot cheeks, and said, "Say something, child, that
I may hear your voice."
Then Heidi told her how unhappy she had been, thinking that the
grandmother might die while she was away and would never have
her white rolls, and that then she would never, never see her
again.
Peter's mother now came in and stood for a moment overcome with
astonishment. "Why, it's Heidi," she exclaimed, "and yet can it
be?"
Heidi stood up, and Brigitta now could not say enough in her
admiration of the child's dress and appearance; she walked round
her, exclaiming all the while, "Grandmother, if you could only
see her, and see what a pretty frock she has on; you would
hardly know her again. And the hat with the feather in it is
yours too, I suppose? Put it on that I may see how you look in
it?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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