In a recent editorial I expressed dismay at the violence I noticed when rereading some classic fairy tales. Perhaps I over reacted, because on further reflection I seem to realize that the violence was not there for glorifying violence, but only as an occasion to bring out the heroism of the victims and to illustrate how patience and courage manage to overcome adversity. In the end, goodness prevails over badness.

“Don’t be discouraged by the violence you see in the world,” the story-tellers seem to say, “but see that it is still possible to survive it.” I should have given more credit to one of my opening statements that all the evil and violence that were there did not poison my mind or turn me into a violent person. What I did learn was to keep up my hopes even when things looked hopeless and to calmly use my head to counter danger. In the end the good guys win and the bad guys fail.

So with this in mind, let me retell the Grimm Brothers Jakob and Wilhelm’s story of Hansel and Gretel with some comments of my own.

Hanzel and Gretel’s Horrendous Ordeal

Once upon a time a woodsman, who made a meager livelihood by chopping wood and making charcoal to sell, lived deep in the forest with his wife and two beautiful children, Hanzel a young boy and Gretel his little sister.

Already, even before I know what this story is all about, I have a picture in my mind that turns me off. How can anyone in his right mind choose to live in the middle of nowhere, miles from the nearest neighbor or grocery store? How difficult and uncomfortable it must be to live in a little hut, without electricity, running water, water heater, or an indoor toilet? Does the thatch roof leak or is it infested with insects? Is there glass in the windows or are they open to the elements? What kind or variety of food make up the meager diet? How hard the poor fellow has to work chopping trees; how far he has to trek to sell the charcoal and bring back groceries. How can he get along without newspaper or radio or telephone?

You wouldn’t catch me willingly living in such conditions, but still, on second thought, I guess I ought to be grateful to him, because without him I would have to chop my own wood and manufacture my own charcoal, far too strenuous and time consuming for my taste. Thank God, such labor fits someone else, because it certainly doesn’t fit me. And while I’m thinking of the muscular woodsmen enjoying his exercise, he is probably thinking of me feeling sorry for me because I have no time to enjoy the beauty of nature and the great outdoors, living cooped up in a cramped place having to contend with crowds of strangers, having to spend day and night at tasks that tire the mind, depress the spirit and neglect the pleasures of physical exertion and exercise. Well, at least I hope he is grateful I earn enough money to pay him well for his wood and charcoal!

And those poor children. They have no playmates, there is no school for them to attend and probably few if any toys to play with. They probably have to spend most of the time helping their parents instead of enjoying the freedom and pleasures that city children have. But on second thought, those two kids don’t feel any envy of rich kids or miss reading or video games, because they don’t know they exist. They are learning to do whatever they can with whatever they have. If they have loving considerate parents and grow up healthy and not afraid of hard work and full of love for what they do and consideration for others, than they have more to hand on to their own children than the pampered, educated and entertained city kids have to offer theirs.

But back to our story. Hansel and Gretel’s father loved them very much, but his wife loved only herself, bullied her husband and cruelly mistreated and overworked the children. Just like it happens sometimes around the world today, the countryside surrounding the deep thick forest in which they lived was experiencing a period of famine and poverty, so that few could afford to buy the woodman’s wood or charcoal and there was little food to buy.

The selfish mother was determined to get rid of the children to keep the last remaining supply of food for herself and her husband, so she prevailed upon her husband against his will to take the children deep into the woods and leave them there to die. One can imagine the anguish and guilt he must have felt, but he was so weak-willed and afraid of his wife, that he went along with her plan. Fortunately, the children had overheard the mother talking to their father, so the little boy Hansel sneaked out of the house during the night and filled all his pockets and knapsack with little white stones, so the next day as they were led deep into the woods, a trail of pebbles dropped by the boy every few feet led them back home again.

Father, of course was overjoyed to see them still alive, but Mother was more determined than ever to get rid of them once and for all and arranged for them to be taken so far into a strange distant part of the forest, they would never manage to find home again. This time Hansel was prevented from gathering the white pebbles because Mother had locked the door so he couldn’t go out to collect them, but being a resourceful lad, he crumbled the few little slices of bread they were given for lunch and left a trail of breadcrumbs. Unfortunately, birds ate up all the crumbs as soon as they were dropped, so the two children had no way of retracing their steps.

Little Hansel was not afraid. Taking Gretel by the hand he set out to explore the forest hoping to find someone who could rescue them. Days went by and they were barely surviving on the few berries and nuts they were able to find. Then they stumbled onto a clearing in which there was a house made of gingerbread, decorated with candies and chocolate and with windows made of transparent sugar panes. Eagerly they ran up and started eating as much as they could.

Now if it had been me, I would have been very suspicious. How is it possible that right in the middle of nowhere is not only a beautiful house, but one that is edible as well, just waiting there to be nibbled on? Besides, it’s private property. It’s not right to just go up and start eating somebody’s house. And if it is really food, honest to goodness cake and candy, how is it that there are no flies or any insects or birds or animals around consuming it. Something’s fishy, something’s wrong. Beware, Hansel and Gretel, perhaps this isn’t your lucky day. And I would have been right. It turned out quite the opposite.

Living in the house was a wicked witch who had a big appetite for roasting and eating little children. The candy house was only a ruse to lure them into her clutches. Then she would fatten them up before cooking them. So once she had invited Hansel and Gretel inside, she locked the door and imprisoned Hansel in a cage, leaving Gretel free to do the housework and bring food to her brother to fatten him up for the oven.

Even this trouble did not cause Hansel to give up. Knowing that he would not be killed until he was good and fat, he fooled the witch, who turned out to have bad eyesight, by extending a chicken bone instead of his finger every time the witch came to check on his condition.

Finally, the witch could wait no longer. Fattened or not into the oven Hansel would go. So she heated the oven with a hot fire, then opened the oven door and ordered the little girl to stick her head in to see if it was hot enough. Gretel was no fool; afraid that the witch intended to cook her first, she complained that she didn’t know how hot was hot enough and asked the witch to show her what she was supposed to do.

“You stupid girl. There’s nothing to it. Just bend down and stick your head in like this,” said the witch. Gretel saw her chance and with all her might shoved the witch, throwing her off balance and right into the oven. Before the witch had a chance to react properly, Gretel managed to slam the oven door shut and thus the witch became the roast in place of the children. It was a horrible, grizzly end of the evil crone and one might even feel a twinge of pity for the old girl, but it was just poetic justice; she got in the end at the children’s expense what she had intended the children to get at her expense.

Loaded up with a big supply of food and a pocketful of precious jewels they found in a drawer, Hansel and Gretel after walking for several days, finally found familiar landmarks and reached home at last, where their father was happy to have them back. Their mother has died (of starvation, we hope, but the authors don’t say), so they all lived happily ever after.

For years experts have been attempting to locate the forest and find evidence of the woodman’s house and witch’s cottage to verify the authenticity of the story, but to no avail. Several well documented periods of drought and famine have been pinpointed as likely time frames, but no record has been discovered of any witch who disappeared without a trace or of any widowed woodsman with two children who suddenly became prosperous and wealthy. The man might have been too ignorant to know the value of the jewels the children brought to him or he was too clever to draw attention by ostentatiously showing off his new found wealth. Or was he a contented man, happy in his station in life, who enjoyed his work and was content to live quietly as he always had. And the children growing up in the care of a hardworking gentle loving father had more to pass on to their children than the goods that money can by.

There are lessons hidden here.

No matter how difficult life might be, there is no place like home.
No matter how hard life seems to be, don’t give up. Don’t panic. If you calmly assess the situation you can possibly think of something clever.
If you have a little sister, protect her and comfort her. If you have a big brother in trouble, don’t be afraid to try to rescue him, even if it seems hopeless.
Those who depend on violence die end violently.

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