HEAVEN AND HELL By Richard von Volkmann Leander It was the time of year when the world is most

beautiful and when it is hardest for people to leave this earth. The lilacs were in full bloom, and the buds on the rose bushes were ready to burst. Two travelers walked along the path to heaven. One was rich, the other poor. On earth they had lived quite close to each other, on the same streetthe rich man in a huge, magnificent villa, the poor man in a little hut. Since death is not a respecter of persons, it so happened that both died in the same hour. They met on the road to heaven and walked along silently, side by side. The way became steeper and steeper. It was soon quite difficult for the rich man to climb because he was stout and short of breath. He had never walked this far in all his life. So it happened that the poor man got ahead and arrived at the gates of heaven first. He didnt dare knock. He sat down in front of the gates and thought to himself, Ill just wait for the rich man; perhaps he will knock. After a long time the rich man arrived too. When he found the gates closed and no one running out to open them and welcome him, he began to rattle the gates and hammer on them with his fists. St. Peter rushed out, flung the gates open, looked the two men over, and said to the rich man, That must have been you who couldnt wait. I dont think you need to consider yourself so important. Things weve heard about you up here havent been too impressive so far; in fact, your doings on earth didnt make much sense to us. The rich mans courage dropped into his boots, but St. Peter didnt give him another thought. He stretched out his hand to the poor man to help him up, and said, Come into the hall, both of you, and we will see what is to happen next. Sure enough, the place they entered wasnt heaven yet. It was a great, wide hall with many locked doors and benches along the walls. Rest a little, Peter said to the two travelers. Wait until I return, but use your time well to decide what you wish to do up here. Each of you shall have exactly what he wishes; therefore, consider it well. When I return, dont start humming and hawing, but tell me straight out. Dont forget anything: afterwards it will be too late. Peter left. After a time he reappeared and asked if they had finished their considerations and decided how they wished to spend their time in Eternity. The rich man leaped from his bench and said he wanted a grand, golden palace, more beautiful than the Emperors palace and each day the best of food: hot chocolate in the morning, for lunch, roast veal with apple sauce every day, and creamy rice with smoked sausages and raspberry delight for dessert. These were his favorite dishes. For the evening meal he would like something different each day. Could he also have a very comfortable grandfather chair and a green silk dressing gown? And Peter should not forget the daily paper so that he could keep up with the news. Peter looked at him with compassion, stood silent a while, and finally asked, Dont you wish for anything else? Oh yes! the rich man added quickly, lots and lots of money! All the cellars should be filled! So much that one cannot count it! You shall have it, Peter replied. Follow me. He opened one of the many doors and led the rich man into a magnificent, golden palace. It was exactly as the rich man had wished it to be. After Peter had shown him everything, he left and locked the palace gate behind him with a huge iron bolt. The rich man put on the green silk dressing gown, sat himself down in his cozy armchair, ate and drank and enjoyed himself, and then read the daily newspaper. Once a day he climbed down the steps to look at his money bags in the cellar. Fifty years passed by and then another fiftythat is a hundred years. Now a hundred years is a very small fragment of Eternity, but the rich man was already so fed up with his gorgeous, golden palace, that he could hardly stand it any longer. Those veal cutlets get worse every day, and the fried sausages too, he said. They have lost all their flavor. This wasnt true. The trouble was, he had had too many of them. I havent read the daily paper for ages, he mumbled. I dont care what happens on the earth. I dont even know anyone down there anymore. All my acquaintances have died long ago. The people who have to live on earth now play such stupid pranks and talk such queer nonsense that you get quite dizzy reading about it. Then he was silent and yawned, because it was all very boring. A little time passed, and then he grumbled, I dont even know what to do with all my money. You cant buy anything here! How could anyone be so stupid as to wish for money in heaven! He got up, opened the window, and looked out. All the rooms of the castle were brightly lit, but it was absolutely pitch-black dark outside, so pitch black that you could not see your hand in front of your eyesinky black by day and night, from one year to the next, and as silent as a church yard. He closed the window and sat down once more in his cozy grandfather chair.

Once or twice each day he arose and looked out of the window. But it was always the same: pitch-black. And hot chocolate every morning, and roast veal every noon with applesauce, creamy rice, and smoked sausages, and after that raspberry delight, over and over and over and over again, each day exactly like the other. A thousand years passed by and then, one day, there was a grating, clattering sound as someone moved the big iron bolt off the gate. Peter entered. Well, he said, how do you like it here? At this the rich man got dreadfully angry. How do I like it here? I dont like it at all! Its just awful. It couldnt be worse! How can you possibly imagine anyone enjoying themselves in such a worthless palace? How can you possibly imagine anyone sticking it out for a thousand years in this place? You hear nothing! You see nothing! Nobody cares about you! Its all just a bunch of lies about your highly prized heaven and eternal blessedness. Its an absolutely miserable arrangement! Peter looked at him with great astonishment and said, Oh! so you dont know where you are? Do you really think you are in heaven? Certainly not. You are in hell. You wished yourself into it. The palace is part of hell. In hell? The rich man was horrified. But this cant be hell! Where are the devil and the fire and the cauldron? Peter replied, You think sinners are still roasted as in former times. That hasnt been done for quite a while now. But you are in hell all right; you can be sure of that, and pretty deep down too. One could pity you. Given time, youll begin to realize this yourself. By now the rich man was terrified. He dropped into his easy chair, held his hands over his face and began to sob, In hell! In hell! Oh, poor, unhappy man that I am, whatever shall become of me? And another hundred years passed by and yet another hundred years. One cant possibly imagine how dreadfully long time now seemed to the rich man. After the second thousand years had come to an end, Peter entered for a second visit. Ach Peter! the rich man called out. I have such a longing for you! I am so very sad. And is this situation meant to continue forever? For all Eternity? He stopped to think and then asked, Saint Peter, how long is Eternity, would you say? Peter answered, When another ten thousand years have passed away, then Eternity begins. When the rich man heard this, his head sank to his chest and bitter tears began to flow. Unnoticed, Peter stood behind his chair and secretly counted his tears. When he saw that there were so many tears that our dear God would most certainly forgive him, he said, Come. I will show you something very beautiful. I know of a knothole in the attic upstairs, through which you can catch a glimpse of heaven. Peter led him up the attic steps, then through a jumble of all kinds of old things, into a little room. As they entered, a golden shaft of light flashed through the knothole and right onto Peters forehead. It looked as if flames of fire flickered on his brow. The rich man trembled. That comes from the real heaven, he said. Yes, Peter answered, now look through. But the knothole was high up in the wall and the rich man was short; he could hardly reach it. You must make yourself tall and stand on tip-toe, Peter said. The rich man made a great effort and stretched himself for all he was worth. Finally he managed to look through the knothole and it really was so. He could look into heaven. There was God the Father on his throne amongst the stars and the clouds, in all his splendor and glory, surrounded by all his angels and saints. Ach! he called out, How wonderful! How beautiful! When you live on earth you just cant imagine such glory! But tell me, who is sitting at Gods feet with his back to me? That is the poor man, who was your neighbor on earth, who came up here with you on the same day. Remember? I asked you both to consider how you would like to live in Eternity, how you would like to spend your time. He only wished for a little footstool to sit at Gods feet. And he received it, just like you received your palace. Peter walked away quietly. The rich man didnt notice him leaving. He was standing spellbound, gazing and gazing into heaven. It was none too easy for him, since the knothole was so high up that he had to stand on tiptoe all the time. But he didnt mind because the sights he saw were so very beautiful. Another thousand years passed by and Peter came for the last time. He found the rich man still standing on the same spot in the little attic room, stretching up to the knothole on tiptoe and gazing into heaven. He was so completely absorbed that he never even noticed Peter entering. Peter waited, but finally laid his hand on the rich mans shoulder and said, Come with me. You have stood here long enough. Your sins are forgiven. I have come to take you to heaven. You could have had a much easier time of it if you had wanted to. Is it not so?