I'm Keith Morrison, and this is the final episode of Hans Christian Andersen's The Snow Queen.
Young Gerda is racing along in a carriage on a quest to find her best friend.
A foolish quest, many said, a pointless one.
Kay disappeared so long ago.
Surely he's dead by now.
But Gerda's heart just can't let him go.
So now here she is, sitting in that coach, lurching forward into the unknown.
Soon enough she comes to a forest, and the black trees close in around her.
That's where her next trouble begins.
Once again, the Snow Queen.
The coach carrying Gerda drove on through a thick forest where it lighted up the way like a torch and dazzled the eyes of some robbers who could not bear to let it pass them safely.
It's gold, it's gold, they cried, rushing forward.
And seizing the horses.
They struck the little jockeys and the coachmen and the footmen and pulled Gerda out of the carriage.
She's young and pretty and she's been fed with kernels of nuts, said an old robber woman who had a long beard and eyebrows that hung over her eyes.
She's as good as a little lamb.
How nice she will taste.
And as she said this, she drew forth a shining knife that glittered horribly.
Oh, screamed the old woman at the same moment, for her own daughter who, held her back, had bitten her in the ear.
She was wild and naughty and the mother turned to punish her, completely forgetting about killing Gerda.
She shall play with me, said the little robber girl.
She shall give me her muff and her pretty dress and sleep with me in my bed.
And Then she bit her mother again and made her spring in the air and jump about and all the robbers laughed.
I will have a ride in the coach, said the little robber girl, and she would have her own way, for she was so self-willed and obstinate.
She and Gerda seated themselves in the coach and drove away over stumps and stones into the depths of the forest.
The little robber girl was about the same size as Gerda, but stronger.
She had broader shoulders.
Her eyes were coal black, and she had a mournful look.
She clasped little Gerda around the waist and said They shall not kill you as long as you don't make me vexed with you.
I suppose you're a princess.
No, said Gerda. and then she told her all her history and how fond she was of Kay.
The robber girl looked earnestly at her, nodded her head slightly and said 'They shan't kill you, even if I do get angry with you, for I will do it myself'.
And then she wiped Gerda's eyes and stuck her own hands in the beautiful muff, which was so soft and warm.
The coach stopped in the courtyard of a robber's castle, the walls of which were cracked from top to bottom.
Ravens and crows flew in and out of the holes and crevices, while great bullfrogs, both of which looked as if they could swallow a man, were jumping about.
In the large old smoky hall, a bright fire was burning on the stone floor.
Soup was boiling in the large cauldron. and hares and rabbits were roasting on the spit.
You shall sleep with me and all my little animals tonight, said the robber girl.
After they had something to eat and drink, she took Gerrit to a corner of the hall where some straw and carpets were laid down.
Above them, on perches, were more than a hundred pigeons, all of whom seemed to be asleep, though they moved a bit when the two little girls came near them.
These all belong to me, said the robber girl, and she seized the nearest to her, held it by the feet and shook it until it flapped its wings.
Kiss it, she cried, slapping it in Gerda's face.
There sit the wood pigeons, she continued, pointing to a cage which had been fixed to the wall.
Both rascals would fly away if they were not closely locked up, and here's my old sweetheart.
Bah! and she dragged out a reindeer by the horn.
He wore a bright copper ring around his neck and was tied up.
We were also obliged to hold him tight, too, or he'd run away from us also.
I tickled his neck every evening with my sharp knife, which frightens him very much.
And then the robber girl drew a long knife from a nook in the wall and let it slide gently over the reindeer's neck.
The poor animal began to kick, and the little robber girl laughed and pulled down Gerda into bed.
Will you have that knife with you while you're asleep? asked Gerda, looking at it in great fright.
I don't always sleep with a knife by me, said the robber girl.
There's no telling what might happen.
But now tell me again about Kay, and why you went out into the world.
Gerda repeated her story over again while the wood pigeons cooed gently in their cages.
As she spoke, the robber girl put one arm across Gerda's neck and held the knife in the other, and was soon fast asleep and snoring.
But Gerda could not close her eyes at all.
She didn't know whether she was to live or die.
The robber sat around the fire, singing and drinking, and the old woman stumbled about.
It was a terrible sight for a little girl to witness.
But then, quite suddenly, the wood pigeons piped up and said, We have seen Kay.
A white bird carried his sled and he sat in the carriage of the Snow Queen, which drove through the wood while we were lying in our nest.
"'What are you saying up there?' cried Gerda.
"'Where was the Snow Queen going?
Do you know anything about it?'
"'She was most likely travelling to Lapland, where there's always snow and ice.
Ask the reindeer that's fastened up there with a rope.'
"'Yes, there's always snow and ice,' said the reindeer.
"'And it is glorious.
It's a glorious place.
You can leap and run about freely on the sparkling icy plains.'
The Snow Queen has her summer tent there, but her castle is at the North Pole, on an island called Spitsbergen.
Oh, Kay, little Kay, cried Gerda.
Lie still, said the rubber girl, or I shall run my knife into your body.
In the morning, Gerda told her all that the wood pigeons had said.
And the robber girl looked quite serious and nodded her head and said, That's all talk.
Do you know where Lapland is?
She asked the reindeer.
Who should know better than I do, said the animal.
Well, his eyes sparkled.
I was born and brought up there and used to run about on the snow-covered plains.
Now listen, said the robber girl.
All our men are gone away.
Only mother is here, and she will stay, but at noon she always drinks out of a great bottle and afterwards she sleeps for a little while.
That's when I'll do something for you."
Later that day, when the mother had drunk out of the bottle and was gone to sleep, the little robber maiden went to the reindeer and said I should like very much to tickle your neck a few times with my knife, for it makes you look so funny, but never mind.
I will untie your cord and set you free, so that you may run away to Lapland.
But you must make good use of your legs and carry this little maiden to the castle of the Snow Queen, where her playfellow is.
You heard what she told me, for she spoke loud enough and you were listening.
Then the reindeer jumped for joy and the robber girl lifted Gerda on his back and tied her on and even gave her a little cushion to sit on.
Here are your fur boots for you, for it'll be very cold, but I must keep them off.
It's so pretty.
However, you shall not be frozen for the want of it.
Here are my mother's large warm mittens.
They'll reach up to your elbows.
Let me put them on.
There, now your hands look just like my mother's.
Gerda wept for joy.
I don't like to see you frat, said the little robber girl.
You ought to look quite happy now.
Oh, and here are two loaves and a ham, so you need not starve.
She fastened these to the reindeer, and then the little robber maiden opened the door and cut the string with which the reindeer was fastened and said Now run but, mind you, take good care of the little girl.
Gerda stretched out her hand with the great mitten on it toward the little robber girl and said Farewell.
The way, flew the reindeer, over stumps and stones, through the great forest, over marshes and plains, as quickly as he could.
The wolves howled and the ravens screamed, while up in the sky quivered red lights like flames of fire.
There are my northern lights, said the reindeer.
See how they flash.
And he ran on, day and night, faster and faster, racing to Lapland and to Kay.
It's been a frightful journey for Gerda, but something about her pure heart, her selfless pursuit in the face of insurmountable odds, has touched the characters in our story in the most improbable way.
She even won over the robber girl who's given Gerda a pair of mittens and some sandwiches and her most prized possession of all, a talking reindeer.
He too is loyal and true, this reindeer friend.
Now the two of them will battle the frozen frontier as we rejoin our story.
They stopped at a little hut.
It was very mean looking.
The roof sloped nearly down to the ground and the door was so low that the family who lived there had to creep in on their hands and knees whenever they went in and out.
There was no one at home but an old Lapland woman who was cooking fish by the light of an oil lamp.
Gerda was so pinched with cold that she could not speak, so the reindeer told the woman all about Gerda's story.
''Oh, you poor things,'' said the Lapland woman.
''You have a long way to go yet.
You must travel more than a hundred miles farther to Finland.
The Snow Queen lives there now, and she burns lights every evening.
I will write a few words on a dried fish, for I have no paper and you can take it from me to the Finland woman who lives there.
She can give you better information than I can.''
So when Gerda was warmed and had taken something to eat and drink, the woman wrote a few words on the dried fish and told Gerda to take great care of it.
Then she tied her again on the reindeer, and he set off at full speed.
Flash, flash went the beautiful blue northern lights in the air the whole night.
Long and at length.
They reached Finland and knocked at the chimney of the Finland woman's hut.
They crept in. and were surprised to find it was terribly hot inside.
The woman of the house was small and grungy-looking.
She loosened little Gerda's dress and took off the fur boots and the mittens, for Gerda would have been unable to bear the heat.
And then she placed a piece of ice on the reindeer's head and read what was written on the dried fish.
After she had read it three times, she knew it by heart, and so she popped the fish into the soup saucepan, since she knew it would be delicious, and she never wasted anything.
The reindeer told Gerda's story and the Finlander twinkled with her clever eyes, but she said nothing.
You are so clever, said the reindeer.
I know you can tie all the winds of the world with a piece of twine.
If a sailor unties one knot, he has a fair wind, and when he unties the second, it blows hard.
But if the third and fourth are loosened, then comes a storm, which will root up whole forests.
Can't you give this little maiden something which will make her as strong as twelve men to overcome the snow queen'?
"'The power of twelve men,' said the Finland woman, "'that would be of very little use.'
Then she turned around and went about her usual business, cooking and cleaning.
But the reindeer begged so hard for Gerda, and Gerda looked at the Finland woman with such beseeching, tearful eyes that her own eyes began to twinkle again.
So she drew the reindeer into a corner and whispered a secret to him.
Little Kay is really with the Snow Queen, but he finds everything there so much to his taste and his liking that he believes it's the finest place in the world.
But this is because he has a piece of broken glass in his heart and a little piece of glass in his eye.
These must be taken out or he will never be a human again and the Snow Queen will retain her power over him.
But can you not give Gerda something to help her conquer this power?"
"'I can give her no greater power than she already has,' said the woman.
"'Don't you see how strong that is?
How men and animals are obliged to serve her, and how well she has got through the world?
She cannot receive any power from me greater than she now has, which consists of her own purity and innocence of heart'.
If she cannot herself obtain access to the Snow Queen and remove the glass fragments from Kay, we can do nothing to help her.
Two miles from here, the Snow Queen's garden begins.
You can carry the little girl so far and set her down by the large bush, which stands in the snow, covered with red berries.
Do not stay gossiping, but come back here as quickly as you can.
Then the Finland woman lifted Gerda up upon the reindeer, and he ran away with her as quickly as he could.
Oh, I've forgotten my boots and my mittens, cried Gerda, as soon as she felt the cutting cold.
But the reindeer dared not stop, so he ran on until he reached the bush with the red berries, and here he sat Gerda down, just as the woman had told him to, and he kissed her.
Great, bright tears trickled over the animal's cheeks as he left her and ran back as fast as he could.
There stood, poor Gerda, without shoes, without gloves, in the midst of cold dreary, ice-bound Finland.
She ran forwards as quickly as she could, but just then a whole regiment of snowflakes came round her, but they didn't fall from the sky, which was quite clear and glittering with the northern lights.
Instead, the snowflakes ran along the ground, and the nearer they came to her, the larger they appeared.
Gerda remembered how large and beautiful they looked through the burning glass, but these were really larger and much more terrible, for they were alive and had the strangest shapes ever.
They were the Snow Queen's guards.
Some were like great porcupines, others like twisted serpents with their heads stretching out, and some were like fat little bears with their hair bristling up.
All were dazzlingly white, and all were living snowflakes.
Gerda said the Lord's Prayer, and the cold was so great that she could see her own breath coming out of her mouth like steam as she uttered the words over and over again.
The steam appeared to increase as she continued her prayer, until it took the shape of little angels who grew larger the moment they touched the earth.
These foggy angels all wore helmets on their heads and carried spears and shields.
Their number continued to increase more and more.
And by the time Gerda had finished her prayers, a whole legion stood around her.
And now a tremendous battle took place.
The angels thrust their spears into the terrible snowflake so that, one by one, they shivered before crackling into a hundred pieces which disappeared into the blue night sky.
At last Gerda could go forward with courage and safety.
The angels stroked her hands and feet so that she felt the cold less, and she hastened on to the Snow Queen's castle.
But what was Kay doing all this time?
In truth, he thought not of little Gerda.
He never dreamed she would suddenly appear, standing in the doorway of that ice-cold palace.
Gerda is on the precipice now. just a step away from the snowy palace.
In a moment, she will finally see her Kay.
But he has ice in his veins and the Snow Queen in his ear.
What will he do now?
Our story continues.
The walls of the palace were formed of drifted snow, and the windows and doors of the cutting winds.
There were more than a hundred rooms in it, all as if they had been formed by blowing mounds of snow together.
The largest room, extended for several miles, and they were all lighted up by the vivid light of the aurora borealis.
They were all so cavernous, so large and empty, so icy cold and glittering.
There were no amusements here, not even a little bear's ball, when the storm might have been the music and the bears could have danced on their hind legs.
No, there were no pleasant games of snapdragon or cards or even a gossip over the tea table.
It was empty and vast, and cold were the halls of the Snow Queen.
The flickering flame of the northern lights rising high and low in the heavens danced across every hall in the castle.
In the midst of this empty, endless hall of snow sat a frozen lake crackling into a thousand forms, each piece exactly the same, so it formed a perfect work of art.
In the center of this lake sat the Snow Queen, as she always did when she was at home.
She called the lake the Mirror of Reason and said that it was the best and indeed only one in the world.
Kay was there too, quite blue with cold, indeed almost black.
But he did not feel it, for the Snow Queen had kissed away the icy shiverings and, as we know, his heart was already a lump of ice.
He was dragging some sharp, flat pieces of ice to and fro and placing them together in all kinds of positions, as if he wished to make something out of them, as if he were trying to solve some kind of puzzle.
Kay's figures were very artistic in this icy game of reason at which he played.
In his eyes, the figures were very remarkable and of the highest importance.
He felt this way because of the piece of glass still sticking in his eye.
He formed many complete figures, which each spelled out different words.
But there was one word he never could manage to form, although he wished it very much.
It was the word eternity.
The Snow Queen had said to him When you can form that word, you shall be your own master, and I will give you the whole world and a new pair of skates.
But he could not accomplish it.
Suddenly the Snow Queen turned and spoke.
Now I must leave and go to warmer countries, she said.
I will go look into the black craters of the tops of burning mountains, Etna and Vesuvius.
I shall make them look white, all frozen over.
And away flew the Snow Queen, leaving Kay quite alone in the great hall which was many miles long.
Kay looked at his pieces of ice and was thinking so deeply and sat so still that one might have supposed he was frozen.
Just at this moment it happened that little Gerda came through the great door of the castle.
Cutting winds were raging around her, but she offered up a prayer to the winds and the winds sank down as if they were going to sleep.
She went on until she came to the large empty hall.
And there he was, Kay, sitting alone.
Gerda knew him in an instant.
She flew to him and threw her arms around his neck and held him fast, while she exclaimed Kay, dear little Kay, I've found you at last.
But Kay sat quite still, stiff and cold.
Gerda stared at him, her best friend, a stranger to her now.
How could this be?
Hot, flowing tears poured down Gerda's face as she clung to Kay.
They fell down her neck, her arms, her cloak and then sank onto Kay's chest, soaking his clothes and penetrating into his heart.
Those tears from sweet, innocent and steadfast.
Gerda thawed the lump of ice that was there and washed away the little piece of glass stuck inside.
Slowly Kay turned and looked at Gerda and she sang to him the song they'd so often sung in their makeshift garden.
Roses bloom and cease to be, but we shall the Christ child see.
Then Kay himself burst into tears, and he wept so long and so hard that the splinter of glass swam out of his eye.
And then he recognized Gerda and said joyfully 'Gerda, dear Gerda, where have you been all this time?
And where have I been?'
And he looked all around him and said, 'How cold it is and how large and empty it all looks'.
And he clung to Gerda and she laughed and wept for joy.
It was so glorious to see them together that the pieces of ice even danced about, and when they were tired and went to lie down they formed themselves into the letters of the word which the Snow Queen had said Kay must find before he could be his own master and have the whole world in a pair of new skates.
ETERNITY
Then Gerda kissed his cheeks and they became rosy and blooming.
And she kissed his eyes and they shone like her own.
She kissed his hands and his feet, and little Kay became healthy and cheerful.
The Snow Queen didn't matter at all to them now, for once that word was formed in ice, Kay was free.
The Snow Queen had promised it herself.
The two friends took each other by the hand and went forth from the great palace of ice.
They spoke of the grandmother and of the roses on the roof.
And as they ran on and on, the sun burst forth.
And when they arrived at the bush with red berries, there stood the reindeer waiting for them.
He had brought another young reindeer with him and Kay Scareda managed to free Kay from the Snow Queen's icy grip.
The two reindeer carried Kay and Gerda first to the Finland woman, where they warmed themselves thoroughly in the hot room, while she gave them directions for their journey home.
Next they went to the Lapland woman who made some new clothes for them and put their sleighs in order.
Both the reindeer ran by their side and followed them as far as the boundaries of the country where the first green leaves were budding.
And they said their goodbyes.
Then the birds began to twitter, and the forest, too, was full of green young leaves.
And out of it came a beautiful horse, which Gerda remembered, for it was the one which had drawn the golden coach.
A young girl was riding upon it, with a shining red cap on her head and pistols in her belt.
It was the little robber maiden, who had got tired of staying at home.
She was going first to the north, and if that did not suit her she meant to try some other part of the world.
She recognized Gerda immediately, and Gerda remembered her.
It was a joyful meeting.
"'You're a fine fellow to go roaming about in this way,' she said to Kay.
'I should like to know whether you deserve that anyone should go to the end of the world to find you'.
But Gerda just patted the robber maiden's cheeks and asked after the prince and princess."
They are gone to foreign countries, said the robber girl.
Then she pointed to Kay and said, Now tell me how you managed to get him back.
Then Gerda and Kay told her the whole story.
Snap, snap, snare.
It's all right at last, said the robber girl.
And then she took both their hands and promised that if ever she should pass through the town, she would call and pay them a visit.
And then she rode away into the wide world.
Gerda and Kay went hand in hand towards home.
And as they walked on, spring appeared more lovely in its green foliage and its beautiful flowers.
Very soon they recognized the large town where they lived and the tall steeples of the churches in which the sweet bells were ringing a merry peal as they entered it and found their way to Kay's grandmother's door.
They went upstairs into the little room where everything looked just the same.
The old clock was going tick-tock and the hands pointed to the right time of day.
But as they passed through the door into the room, they realized they were both grown up.
They'd become man and woman.
The roses out on the roof were in full bloom and there stood their little chairs on which they had sat when they were children.
Kay and Gerda seated themselves each on their own chair and held each other by the hand, while the cold, empty splendor of the Snow Queen's palace vanished from their memories like a painful dream.
The grandmother sat in God's bright sunshine and she read aloud from the Bible Except you become as little children, ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of God.
And Kay and Gerda looked into each other's eyes and all at once understood the words of the old song Roses bloom and cease to be, but we shall the Christ child see.
And they both sat there, grown up, yet children at heart.
And it was summer.
Warm, beautiful summer.
And so whoever said nice guys finish last obviously never met Gerda, who triumphed over evil exactly because she was so good and kind.
Perhaps a reminder that if you follow your heart, you may just accomplish things you never thought you could.
I'm Keith Morrison.
From our NBC News family, Dior's.
Happy holidays, everyone.
Morrison Mysteries is a production of Dateline and NBC News.
Sound design and mix by Matt Tiernig.
