Memories: A Story of German LoveMüller, F. Max (Friedrich Max)
Religion
Memories: A Story of German Love
Müller, F. Max (Friedrich Max)
Müller, F. Max (Friedrich Max), 1823-1900; Religion historians -- Germany -- Biography
And then when all around grows dark, when we feel utterly alone, when
all men right and left pass us by and know us not, a forgotten feeling
rises in the breast. We know not what it is, for it is neither love
nor friendship. You feel like crying to him who passes you so cold and
strange: "Dost thou not know me?" Then one realizes that man is nearer
to man than brother to brother, father to son, or friend to friend.
How an old, holy saying rings through our souls, that strangers are
nearest to us. Why must we pass them in silence? We know not, but
must resign ourselves to it. When two trains are rushing by upon the
iron rails and thou seest a well-known eye that would recognize thee,
stretch out thy hand and try to grasp the hand of a friend, and perhaps
thou wilt understand why man passes man in silence here below.
An old sage says: "I saw the fragments of a wrecked boat floating on
the sea. Only a few meet and hold together a long time. Then comes a
storm and drives them east and west, and here below they will never
meet again. So it is with mankind. Yet no one has seen the great
shipwreck."
THIRD MEMORY.
The clouds in the sky of childhood do not last long, and disappear
after a short, warm tear-rain. I was shortly again at the castle, and
the Princess gave me her hand to kiss and then brought her children,
the young princes and princesses, and we played together, as if we had
known each other for years. Those were happy days when, after
school--for I was now attending school--I could go to the castle and
play. We had everything the heart could wish. I found playthings
there which my mother had shown me in the shop-windows, and which were
so dear, she told me, that poor people could live a whole week on what
they cost. When I begged the Princess' permission to take them home
and show them to my mother, she was perfectly willing. I could turn
over and over and look for hours at a time at beautiful picture books,
which I had seen in the book stores with my father, but which were made
only for very good children. Everything which belonged to the young
princes belonged also to me--so I thought, at least. Furthermore, I
was not only allowed to carry away what I wished, but I often gave away
the playthings to other children. In short, I was a young Communist,
in the full sense of the term. I remember at one time the Princess had
a golden snake which coiled itself around her arm as if it were alive,
and she gave it to us for a plaything. As I was going home I put the
snake on my arm and thought I would give my mother a real fright with
it. On the way, however, I met a woman who noticed the snake and
begged me to show it to her; and then she said if she could only keep
the golden snake, she could release her husband from prison with it.
Naturally I did not stop to think for a minute, but ran away and left
the woman alone with the golden serpent-bracelet. The next day there
was much excitement.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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