Heidi

14 When the Church Bells Ring

Heidi stood under the swaying trees, waiting for her grandfather to go down the mountain with her. He was going to fetch her trunk from Dörfli while she visited Grannie. She was eager to get there, to hear how she had enjoyed the rolls but, listening to the familiar rustling of the trees with her eyes resting on the distant green pastures, she did not grow impatient.

Presently he came out of the hut and took a last look round. It was Saturday, the day when he always cleaned the whole place, inside and out, and tidied up generally. He had worked hard all the morning so that he would be free to go with Heidi in the afternoon, and now everything looked spick and span so he could leave it with a clear conscience. ‘Now we can go,’ he said.

They parted company outside the little house where Peter lived, and Heidi went in there. Grannie heard her step at once, and called affectionately, ‘Is that you, child?’ She took Heidi’s hand and held it tightly as if she was afraid of losing her again.

‘How did you like the rolls?’ asked Heidi at once.

‘Oh, they taste good! I feel better already.’

‘Grannie’s so anxious to make them last that she would only eat one last night and another this morning,’ put in Bridget. ‘If she has one every day for the next ten days, I’m sure she’ll get back her strength.’

Heidi listened thoughtfully and an idea came to her. ‘I know what I’ll do, Grannie,’ she cried. ‘I’ll write to Clara. I’m sure she’ll send me more rolls. I’d saved lots and lots for you, but they were all thrown away, and then Clara promised she’d give me as many as I wanted. She’ll keep her word, I know.’

‘That’s a kind thought,’ said Bridget, ‘but I’m afraid they’d be quite stale and hard by the time they got here. If I had a spare copper or two I’d get some from the baker in Dörfli, but it’s as much as I can do to buy the black bread.’

A beaming smile spread over Heidi’s face. ‘But I’ve got lots of money, Grannie,’ she exclaimed, ‘and now I know what I can do with it. You shall have a fresh roll every day and two on Sundays, and Peter can bring them up with him from the village.’

‘No, no,’ protested Grannie, ‘you mustn’t spend your money on me. You give it to Grandfather, and he’ll tell you what to do with it.’

Heidi paid no attention but pranced round the room, singing, ‘Now Grannie can have a fresh roll every day and will soon be strong again! And oh, Grannie, when you’re quite well, surely you’ll be able to see too. It’s probably only because you’re so weak that you can’t see.’

Grannie just smiled. She would not spoil the child’s happiness. As she danced around, Heidi caught sight of Grannie’s old hymn‐book, and that gave her another idea. ‘I can read now, Grannie,’ she said. ‘Would you like me to read you something out of your old book?’

‘Oh, yes,’ exclaimed Grannie, delighted. ‘Can you really read?’

Heidi climbed on a stool and took down the book, which had lain on the shelf so long that it was thick with dust. She wiped it clean and took the stool close beside the old woman. ‘What shall I read?’ she asked.

‘What you like, child,’ Grannie said, pushing her spinning‐wheel to one side and waiting eagerly for her to begin.

Heidi turned the pages, reading a line here and a line there. ‘Here’s one about the sun,’ she said at last. ‘I’ll read that.’ And she began with great enthusiasm.

Grannie sat through it with her hands folded. Heidi had never seen her look so happy, though tears were running down her cheeks. And at the end she said, ‘Read it again, Heidi. Please read it again.’

Heidi was delighted to do so for she liked the hymn very much herself.

‘Oh, that’s done me so much good,’ Grannie sighed at last. ‘It makes my old heart rejoice.’

Heidi had never seen such a peaceful expression before on Grannie’s careworn face. It looked as though she had indeed found ‘true joy and peace of mind’.

Then there came a knock on the window and Heidi saw her grandfather outside, beckoning to her. She said goodbye and promised to come again the next day. ‘I may go to the pasture with Peter and the goats in the morning,’ she added, ‘but I’ll be here in the afternoon.’ It had been pleasant to be able to give so much happiness, and Heidi wanted to do that even more than running on the mountain among the flowers with the goats.

As she was going Bridget brought out the dress and hat which Heidi had taken off and left behind the day before. Now she thought she might as well take the dress, for she was sure it would not make any difference to Grandfather, but the hat she absolutely refused. ‘You keep that,’ she told Bridget. ‘I’ll never wear it again.’

Heidi had so much to tell her grandfather that she began at once. ‘And I’d like to buy rolls for Grannie with my money,’ she told him. ‘She doesn’t want me to, but it’ll be all right, won’t it? Peter can get them in Dörfli, if I give him a penny every day, and two on Sunday.’

‘What about your bed, Heidi? It would be nice for you to have a proper one, and there would still be enough money to buy the rolls.’

‘But I sleep much better on my hay mattress than I did in that great big bed in Frankfurt. Please, please let me spend the money on rolls.’

‘Well,’ he agreed at last, ‘the money is yours. Do what you like with it. There’ll be enough to buy Grannie rolls for many a long year.’

‘Good, good! She needn’t ever eat the hard black bread again. Oh, we are having good times, Grandfather, aren’t we?’ and she skipped gaily along beside him. Then all at once she grew serious and said, ‘If God had let me come back to you at once, like I asked in my prayers, none of this would have happened. I should have brought Grannie a few rolls I had saved, but they would soon have been gone, and I wouldn’t have been able to read. God knew what was best, just as Clara’s Grandmamma said He did, and see how perfectly He arranged everything. I’ll always say my prayers after this, as Grandmamma told me to, and if God doesn’t answer them at once I shall know it’s because He’s planning something better for me, just as He did in Frankfurt. We’ll pray every day, won’t we Grandfather, and we’ll never forget God again, and He won’t forget us.’

‘And when someone does forget?’ he said softly.

‘That’s very bad,’ Heidi told him earnestly, ‘because then God lets him go his own way and then, when everything has gone wrong, no one will feel sorry for him. They’ll only say, “You didn’t bother about God, and now God has left you to yourself.”’

‘That’s true, Heidi. How did you find out?’

‘Grandmamma explained it all to me.’

The old man walked on in silence. After a while he said, half to himself, ‘If God forsakes a man, that’s final. There’s no going back then.’

‘Oh, but there is. Grandmamma said so, and everything will come right in the end, like it does in the lovely story in my book. You haven’t heard it yet, but we’ll soon be home now, and then I’ll read it to you.’ Heidi hurried as fast as she could go up the last steep slope, and when they reached the hut, she let go his hand and ran indoors. He took the basket off his back. He had packed half the contents of her trunk in it, for the whole thing would have been too heavy for him to carry so far uphill. Then he sat down on the bench outside, lost in thought, until Heidi reappeared with the book under her arm. ‘That’s good, you’re all ready,’ she said, climbing on to the seat beside him.

She had read the story so often that the book opened at the right place by itself, and she began straightaway to read about the young man with the shepherd’s crook and the fine cloak, who looked after his father’s sheep and goats in the fields. ‘One day,’ she continued, ‘he asked for his share of his father’s fortune so that he might go away and be his own master. As soon as he got it, he left home and wasted it all. When it was gone, he had to go and work for his living, and he got a job with a farmer, who had no flocks nor pastures as his father had, but only pigs. This young man had to look after them. His fine clothes were gone, and he had only rags to cover him, and only the pigs’ swill to eat, and he was very sad when he remembered how well he had been treated at home, and realized how ungrateful he had been to his father. Alone with the pigs, he wept with remorse and homesickness and thought, “I will rise up and go to my father and ask him to forgive me. I will say to him that I am no longer worthy to be treated as his son, but ask if he will let me be one of his servants.” So he set out, and when he was still a long way off, his father saw him and came running towards him.’ Heidi broke off to ask, ‘What do you suppose happens now? I expect you think his father would be angry and say, “I told you so.” Just you listen though. When his father saw him, his heart was filled with compassion for him, and he ran and met him and put his arms round him and kissed him; and his son said, “Father, I have done wrong against Heaven and against you and am no longer worthy to be your son.” But his father called to the servants, “Bring me the good robe and put it on him, and a ring for his finger and shoes for his feet. Fetch the calf we have fattened and kill it for a feast, and we will eat and be merry, for my son was dead to me and is alive again, he was lost and is found.” And they began to be merry.’

Instead of looking pleased and surprised as she had expected, the old man sat very still, without speaking, until she said, ‘Isn’t that a lovely story, Grandfather?’

‘It is indeed,’ he replied, but he looked so grave that she too fell silent, and sat looking at the pictures. Presently she pushed the book gently in front of him. ‘You can see how happy he is,’ she said, pointing to the picture of the return of the prodigal son.

Some hours later, when Heidi was in bed and asleep, the old man climbed up to the loft and put his lamp on the ground so that its light fell on her. She lay with her hands folded, as if she had fallen asleep saying her prayers. There was a peaceful, very trusting expression on her face, which moved him deeply and he stood gazing down at her for a long time. Then he too folded his hands, bowed his head, and, in a low voice, said, ‘Father, I have sinned against Heaven and before Thee and am no longer worthy to be called Thy son,’ and down his wrinkled cheeks rolled two large tears.

He rose early next morning and went out of doors. It was a beautiful day — a Sunday. The sound of bells floated up from the valley and the birds in the fir trees were singing their morning chorus. Then he stepped back into the hut and called up to Heidi, ‘Time to get up. The sun is shining. Put on your best dress and we’ll go to church together.’

She had never heard him suggest such a thing before, and she soon came hurrying down, wearing one of the pretty Frankfurt dresses. At sight of him, she stopped in astonishment.

‘I’ve never seen you dressed like that before, Grandfather,’ she exclaimed. ‘Silver buttons on your jacket. You do look fine in your Sunday clothes.’

He smiled at her. ‘And so do you,’ he said. ‘Now let’s go.’ He took her hand and together they set off down the steep path. Bells from many churches were ringing, getting louder and clearer as grandfather and child went on, and the joyful clanging delighted Heidi.

‘Oh, Grandfather, this must be a very special day,’ she cried.

The people of Dörfli were already in church and the singing had started as Heidi and Uncle Alp went in and sat down at the back. The hymn was hardly over before people were nudging one another and whispering that Uncle Alp was in church. Women kept turning round to look and so lost the place in their hymn‐books, and the leader of the choir simply could not keep the voices together. But when the pastor began to preach, everyone gave him their attention, for he spoke of praise and thanksgiving, and with such warmth that his listeners were truly moved.

At the end of the service the old man took Heidi by the hand again, and they went towards the pastor’s house. The congregation watched them with interest. Several people followed to see whether they would actually go inside and, when they did so, hung around in little groups, asking what it could possibly mean and speculating whether Uncle Alp would come out again angry or friendly. There were those who said, ‘He can’t be as bad as people make out. Did you see how gently he held the child by the hand?’ or ‘I’ve always said they were wrong! He wouldn’t be going to see the pastor at all if he was such a bad lot.’

‘What did I tell you?’ demanded the baker. ‘Would the child have left that place where she was so well looked after, with plenty to eat and drink, and have come back, of her own accord, to him if he was as hard and bad as people said?’ Gradually they all changed their minds about old Uncle Alp and began to feel quite friendly towards him. Then some women joined in the talk, and they had heard from Bridget and Grannie how Uncle Alp had come down and patched up their cottage for them and stopped the shutters rattling; and in no time, they were looking eagerly at the house door, like old friends waiting to welcome home a traveller who had been long away, and greatly missed.

Now when Uncle Alp had gone inside the pastor’s house, he knocked on the study door and the pastor came out, looking quite as though he had expected the visit — for of course he had seen them in church. He shook hands with Uncle Alp so warmly that at first the lonely old man could hardly speak. He had not expected such kindness. When he had collected himself, he said:

‘I’ve come to ask you to forget what I said when you called on me that time, and not to hold it against me that I wouldn’t take your friendly advice. You were quite right and I was wrong. I shall do as you suggested and move down to Dörfli for the winter. The weather is too severe then for the child to be up in the hut. And if the people down here do regard me with suspicion, that’s no more than I deserve; and I know you won’t do so.’

The pastor’s face showed how pleased he was. He pressed Uncle Alp’s hand again, and said, ‘Neighbour, your mountains have been a good church to you, and brought you to mine in the right frame of mind. You’ve made me very happy. You’ll never regret coming back to live among us, I’m sure. And as for myself, I shall always welcome you as a dear friend and neighbour, and I look forward to our spending many pleasant winter evenings together. And we’ll find friends for Heidi too,’ he added, putting his hand on her curly head. He went with them to the door, and all the people outside saw them part like old friends. As soon as the door was closed everybody crowded round Uncle Alp with outstretched hands, each wishing to be the first to greet him, so that he didn’t know where to begin. ‘We’re so pleased to see you among us again,’ they said; or ‘I’ve long been wanting to have a chat with you, Uncle.’ Such greetings were heard on every side, and when he told them that he intended to come back to his old home in Dörfli for the winter, there was such a chorus of delight and enthusiasm that he might have been the most beloved person in the village, whose absence had been keenly felt by everyone.

When he and Heidi started for home at last, many people went part of the way with them, and when they finally said goodbye, they begged him to visit them in their homes before long. As he watched them go, Heidi saw such a kind light in his eye, that she said, ‘Grandfather, you look quite different — nicer and nicer. I’ve never seen you so before.’

‘No,’ he replied. ‘You see, today I am happy, as I had never thought to be again. Much happier than I deserve. It’s good to feel at peace with God and man. It was a good day when God sent you to me.’

When they reached Peter’s cottage, he opened the door and went in. ‘Good day, Grannie,’ he called. ‘I can see I must get busy with some more repairs before the autumn winds begin to blow.’

‘Goodness me, is it Uncle Alp?’ cried the old woman. ‘What a fine surprise. Now I can thank you for all you did for us before. May God reward you.’ She held out her hand, which trembled a little, and he shook it heartily. ‘I’ve something in my heart, I’d like to say to you,’ she went on. ‘If I’ve ever done you any harm, don’t punish me by letting Heidi go away again, while I’m still above ground. You don’t know what she means to me,’ and she hugged Heidi, whose arms were already round her neck.

‘Don’t worry, Grannie,’ Uncle replied reassuringly, ‘I won’t punish either of us in that way. We’ll all be together now, and for some time yet, please God.’

Bridget took Uncle aside then to show him the hat with the feather, and told him that Heidi had said she could keep it, but that she really couldn’t take it from the child. Uncle Alp gave Heidi an approving look. ‘That hat is hers, and if she doesn’t want to wear it, she’s right. You should certainly keep it since she’s given it to you.’

Bridget was delighted. Holding the hat up, she exclaimed, ‘Just fancy, it must be worth quite a lot of money. How well Heidi got on in Frankfurt. I wonder if it would be any good sending Peter there for a while. What do you think, Uncle?’

His eyes twinkled. ‘It certainly wouldn’t do him any harm, but opportunity’s a great thing.’

At that moment Peter himself came charging in, out of breath, and banged his head against the door in his haste. He held out a letter for Heidi which he had been given at the post office. No one had letters in his home, and Heidi had certainly never had one before. Everybody sat down and listened while she opened it, and read it aloud. It was from Clara, who wrote:

‘It’s been so dreadfully dull here since you went away, that I can hardly bear it. But Papa has promised me that I can go to Ragaz in the autumn. Grandmamma will come with me. After that she says we may come to visit you and your grandfather. I told her about you wanting to take some rolls to Grannie, and she was pleased, and said I was to tell you you were quite right. She is sending some coffee for her to have with them, and says she would like to see Grannie as well when we come to the mountains.’

Everyone was interested in Clara’s news, and they talked about it so long that not even Uncle noticed how late it was getting. Then again, they had had much to say about the pleasure of Uncle’s visit, and the promise of more to come.

‘It feels good to have you here again, old friend, after such a long time,’ Grannie said. ‘It gives me faith that one day we’ll all be together with those we love. Do come again soon, and Heidi, you’ll be here tomorrow?’

They both assured her that they would, and then said goodbye. All the church bells around were ringing for evening prayer as they went back up the mountain, and they found the hut bathed in the glow of the setting sun.

The prospect of Clara’s Grandmamma coming there in the autumn gave Heidi plenty to think about. She had seen, at Frankfurt, that when that lady came upon the scene, she had a way of making everything run happily and smoothly.