The Brave Tin Soldier

Hans Christian Anderson, Retold by The Legendary Connection

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Once upon a time, in a room brimming with toys and childhood wonder, a little boy received a special gift: a box of twenty-five tin soldiers. They stood tall and proud in red and blue uniforms, muskets resting smartly on their shoulders. Each one looked just like the next. All except for one. He had only one leg.

You see, he was the last to be made, and there hadn’t been quite enough tin to finish him. Yet he balanced bravely, never wobbling or wavering. While the others looked sharp, he looked heroic.

The toy room was a magical place, full of marvelous things. But among them all, none enchanted the tin soldier quite like the paper ballerina who danced in front of a paper castle. She stood on one graceful leg, arms above her head, her tutu shimmering in the lamplight.

“She stands on one leg,” the soldier thought in awe. “Just like me.”

He imagined standing beside her, two brave toys with steady hearts and delicate limbs. Something stirred in his little tin chest, something brave and kind and wonderful.

The soldier’s love was noticed by another toy in the playroom. From a shadowy corner, a jack-in-the-box with a painted face peeked out. He was also in love with the delicate ballerina. So with his voice, no louder than a whisper, reached the soldier’s ears: “Stay away from her.” The tin soldier didn’t flinch. He wasn’t afraid of the threats. He had seen courage in the ballerina, and something told him they belonged together.

But the jack-in-the-box worked some evil magic that caused the children to rush in. As they played and laughed, the tin soldier was knocked from the windowsill. He fell out of the window and down, down, down, tumbling head over heels until he landed on the pavement far below. Just then, rain began to fall, causing swift rivers to flow in the street gutters.

Two boys, who were playing on the street, spotted him and, giggling, folded a newspaper into a tiny boat. They set him aboard and watched him float off into the swirling gutters. Suddenly, the little ship swirled into the sewers below.

The tin soldier bravely stood firm on his one leg as the boat rocked and pitched through streams and puddles, past scowling sewer rats who demanded, “Show your passport!” But the soldier said nothing. He simply held his musket tight and let the current carry him forward.

Then came a sudden waterfall, and down he went! The waterfall was too much for the paper boat. The boat collapsed in the fall, and the brave little soldier sank into dark, cold waters. Just when it seemed he might be lost forever, a fish swam by and...gulp!...swallowed him whole.

Inside the fish’s belly, it was dark and quiet, but the tin soldier never lost hope.

He thought of the ballerina’s delicate balance and the way she glimmered like moonlight. He knew he had to keep standing, even in the dark.

Then one day, something amazing happened. The fish that had swallowed the tin soldier was caught. When the fish was sliced open to be prepared for supper, out tumbled the tin soldier, still standing tall.

“Why, it’s the very soldier we lost!” the boy cried, astonished when the cook told him what had happened.

Back in the toy room, the tin soldier’s heart lifted. There she was, the ballerina, still standing on one leg, as lovely as before. The world had taken him far and wide, but brought him back to her.

Yet not everyone rejoiced. The jack-in-the-box, ever jealous, watched with narrowed eyes. That night, while the house slept, he creaked open and, with a wicked grin, gave a little push.

The tin soldier toppled toward the fireplace. He landed near the glowing coals, not in them, but close enough for the heat to burn. All night, the air shimmered around him. His tin body ached; he was sure he would melt.

But as the fire smoldered and the hours passed, a strange transformation took place. The heat did not destroy him. Instead, it tempered him. By morning, the maid found him, still whole, though blackened by soot, and gently lifted him with the poker, setting him on the shelf beside the ballerina.

He cooled slowly, the pain fading. But something was different. He felt it deep within. His tin had been heated and slowly cooled which had caused it to harden and become stronger and sturdier. The fire had not weakened him, it had made him better.

From that day forward, the jack-in-the-box dared not move. He seemed smaller somehow, his mischief dimmed. And the brave tin soldier stood taller than ever, unshaken and unafraid.

Side by side, the soldier and the ballerina shared quiet, graceful days. Though they never spoke a word, they needed none. Their journey had tested them, but it had also taught them: true courage is not the absence of fear, but standing tall through the challenges and ultimately becoming all the stronger because of them.

Story adapted from: Andersen, Hans Christian. "The Steadfast Tin-Soldier." The Yellow Fairy Book, edited by Andrew Lang, Longmans, Green, and Co., 1894.