This is a story by Oscar Wilde. I heard it on ABC Classic FM this morning, read by Stephen Fry. It broke my heart. If there is a sadder tale in the universe, I have yet to hear it.
It’s the story of a nightingale, who sacrifices her life so that a mooning student can give a beautiful red rose to a young woman who has promised to go with him if he is able to produce a rose for her. The nightingale feels sorry for him and consequently dies so that a barren frostbitten rose bush is able to bloom.
This is bad enough, but worse is to come. The student sees the perfect red rose, plucks it and takes it to the girl who rejects him again, remarking that she now has another admirer who has brought her jewels which are much more valuable than a mere rose. Words cannot describe how much I despised her for her careless, arrogant cruelty.
This is bad enough but the real heartbreaker is yet to come. The student, who was obviously not as besotted as we thought, wanders back to the library to become a great philosopher. On the way, he throws the rose, that beautiful perfect rose, ruby red with the life blood of the little nightingale, out into the street where it lands in the gutter and is crushed by the wheel of a passing cart. Surely the nightingale deserved better than that.
But after I’d finished sobbing into an old tissue I found in my pocket, I thought about the times people have given me something wonderful, which may have cost them a lot in time, money or energy. And I’ve said “Thank you very much” without much thought. It’s so easy to let these moments slip by. I really need to be mindful of what is done for me, what is given to me and treasure the efforts expended on my behalf. So I’ll start now. Thanks Trevor, for making macaroni cheese for dinner. It’s quite fiddly, what with the bechamel sauce, cheese grating and nutmeg grinding but what better food could there be for a cold Sunday night, sitting on the couch watching Dr Who. And what a fabulous way to say “I love you”.
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