Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time, a mother lived with and her three sons in a small, modest house on the edge of a village in the mountains. One night, a bright light awakes the mother. When she goes to investigate, she is surprised to see the familiar village transformed into an idyllic paradise, full of gardens bursting with fruit bushes and flowers, rolling hills populated by kind animals and twittering with songbirds, and a clear stream that ran through the center of the magnificent village.

In the morning, the mother was so moved by the night’s dream that she started immediately embroidering a tapestry to recreate the paradise that she had seen in her beautiful dream. She worked incessantly from sunup to sundown, lighting candles in the evening so she could continue her work after dark. She was an older woman, and after the first year of embroidering, she became tired, but she was determined to finish her work. In the second year, she often became sad, and the tears from her tired eyes that fell on the tapestry became the clear water of the stream. In the third year, her tired eyes began to bleed, but the tears that fell on the tapestry were transformed into the luscious fruits in the overflowing gardens of the idyllic village.

Late in the night on the last day of the third year, she finished her tapestry. In the morning, she reveled in her work and called her three sons to come admire the paradise that she had created out of thread. They were amazed, and declared that they should lay the tapestry outside in the sun as to better admire the work. They lay the tapestry out in front of the humble hut and the sun illuminated the beautiful threads. Suddenly, a gust of wind lifted the tapestry from the ground and carried it over the ridge and far into the valley below. The three sons set off immediately in search of their mother’s tapestry. They searched all day and all night but came back to their mother’s house empty handed.

In her depression, the mother’s healthy quickly waned. The three sons tried to cheer the mother up, but they were unsuccessful. Finally, the mother declared that she would die if they could not retrieve her tapestry. She sent her first son off in search of the tapestry, telling him that if he could not find it in a year, he would not see her again alive. A year passed, but the first son did not return. Disappointed, the mother sent her second son off in search of the tapestry, telling him the same as she had told the first son. A second year passed, and the last remaining son watched as his mother’s health and morale continued to fade. The second son did not return.

Finally, the mother sent off her final son, and like his brothers, he promised that he would bring back his mother’s beautiful tapestry. He searched all throughout the mountains, descending into the deepest valleys and ravines and climbing the highest peaks, stopping in villages and farms and asking everyone he saw if they had heard anything about a tapestry of unequaled splendor. Finally, the third son came upon a little cottage nestled in the mountains. Outside, a magnificent horse stood perfectly immobile, as if paralyzed. Curious, he approached the cottage but found that the horse that he had seen from the road was made out of stone. He knocked on the cottage door to inquire about the horse and his mother’s missing tapestry.

Inside, he found an ancient woman living alone. “I know why you are here, my son,” she said to him. “You have come in search of your mother’s tapestry, yes?” He nodded. “Your two brothers have passed by here, asking after the very same tapestry,” she continued. “I told them that I knew how to find it, but it would be a very difficult and dangerous journey. I gave them a choice: either they could learn the whereabouts of the tapestry and promise to undergo the journey, or they could accept a bag of gold and disappear into the village, never to return to their mother. Both accepted the bag of gold. I have not heard from them since. But you, my son, which will you choose?” the old woman asked.

Without hesitation, the third son said he would like to know where the tapestry was. He had no need for wealth, or material success, or towns. He only wanted to see his mother again, happy and healthy.

“Very well,” the old woman said, “I will tell you how to find the tapestry. You must take the horse that stands outside my house and cross three treacherous obstacles, and then you will find the tapestry. You will have to cross a mountain of fire, a mountain of ice, and a stormy sea, and beyond you will come upon a beautiful and golden land, and there you will be able to find the tapestry.”

“You see,” she continued, “when Nature saw your mother’s tapestry, She was jealous of the beauty of the creation. It was so beautiful that Nature sent the Wind to carry the tapestry off so that She could study and reproduce it for Herself.”

“I am ready and willing to go, but your horse is made of stone,” the third son said.

“Yes, he has stood there immobile for so long that his teeth have fallen out and he has forgotten how to eat, and he has turned to stone waiting for someone to take care of him. You must give him new teeth and teach him how to eat, and then he will prove to be the fastest and strongest mare you will have ever seen,” she said.

Straight away, the third son braced himself and knocked out his own teeth and delicately placed them in the horse’s mouth. He then collected grains and placed a bucket just below the stationary horse’s muzzle so the scent would waft into the horse’s nostrils. And just as the old woman had promised, the horse began to shake and tremble and broke out of its stony immobility.

After the horse had eaten and regained its strength, the third son said goodbye to the old woman and set off on his journey. He crossed mountains and valleys until he came upon a black and singed plain. Sure enough, as he crossed the plain he came up on a mountain engulfed in flame. He spurred the sturdy horse on and they sped through the flames of the fiery peaks. Suddenly, the flames died down and the third son saw stretched out before him a shimmering, white field and an icy peak beyond. The third son and the horse skidded across the icy plain and climbed the slippery paths buried in heavy snow. Finally, they emerged from the mountainous winter and found themselves on the banks of an angry sea. Although the third son and his horse were tired and singed and shivering, they plunged into the waves and swam until they thought they would be engulfed by the valleys and peaks of churning water. But the third son and his horse did not drown, and they eventually reached the other shore, where they collapsed, exhausted.

When the third son looked up, he could not believe his eyes. He saw before him the tapestry of his mother: the golden hills where animals pranced and birds sang; the nestled village where a clear stream gurgled; the gardens filled with berry bushes and flowers. And by the clear stream in the quaint village, a golden-haired girl stood alone, looking more like a fawn than a girl. The third son approached her, but he did not have to speak.

“I know why you have come,” she said. “You are looking for your mother’s tapestry. Look what Nature has done with her beautiful pattern!” She motioned to the gilded hills and the crystal liquid of the stream.

“Nature is not quite done yet,” she continued, “but she will be in the morning. Come, walk with me along the stream and then sleep and in the morning you will find your mother’s tapestry.”

The third son walked with the fawn-girl along the stream until the sun set behind the hills. He slept well, and in the morning, he found his world even more beautiful than he had the night before. As promised, the golden-haired girl returned with the tapestry whose absence had so long plagued his mother’s fragile and aged heart.

“Go back to your mother,” she said. “Make her heart glad again. But before you go, let me add something small to her creation.” The fawn-girl took a spool of thread from her pocket and with a slender needle embroidered a little golden figure standing next to the stream onto the tapestry. The third son thanked the girl and set off with his horse to return at last to his mother, mountains and valleys and miles away.

When the third son finally returned to his mother’s house, her smile and the beautiful tapestry illuminated the room of their small house.

“Come, let us lay it outside to better admire its color,” he said.

They lay the tapestry outside the house, and again, a breath of air from the mountains again stirred the fabric. But this time, the tapestry did not fly away. Instead, it seemed to get bigger. It covered the doorway of the little house, and then the whole house, and began to stretch down the street to the village beyond, and then climbed the hills and the mountains beyond. Fruits and flowers bloomed in the gardens and a clear stream gushed from a hidden spring. The mother cried with happiness. She was once again standing in the paradise of her dream!

But something small had changed. Standing by the banks of the clear stream was a golden-haired girl who looked more like a fawn than a girl. She approached them slowly but confidently, and when the third son saw her he ran to her and embraced her. They were married three days later, and they all lived happily ever after.

Once upon a time, a mother lived with and her three sons in a small, modest house on the edge of a village in the mountains. One night, a bright light awakes the mother. When she goes to investigate, she is surprised to see the familiar village transformed into an idyllic paradise, full of gardens bursting with fruit bushes and flowers, rolling hills populated by kind animals and twittering with songbirds, and a clear stream that ran through the center of the magnificent village.

In the morning, the mother was so moved by the night’s dream that she started immediately embroidering a tapestry to recreate the paradise that she had seen in her beautiful dream. She worked incessantly from sunup to sundown, lighting candles in the evening so she could continue her work after dark. She was an older woman, and after the first year of embroidering, she became tired, but she was determined to finish her work. In the second year, she often became sad, and the tears from her tired eyes that fell on the tapestry became the clear water of the stream. In the third year, her tired eyes began to bleed, but the tears that fell on the tapestry were transformed into the luscious fruits in the overflowing gardens of the idyllic village.

Late in the night on the last day of the third year, she finished her tapestry. In the morning, she reveled in her work and called her three sons to come admire the paradise that she had created out of thread. They were amazed, and declared that they should lay the tapestry outside in the sun as to better admire the work. They lay the tapestry out in front of the humble hut and the sun illuminated the beautiful threads. Suddenly, a gust of wind lifted the tapestry from the ground and carried it over the ridge and far into the valley below. The three sons set off immediately in search of their mother’s tapestry. They searched all day and all night but came back to their mother’s house empty handed.

In her depression, the mother’s healthy quickly waned. The three sons tried to cheer the mother up, but they were unsuccessful. Finally, the mother declared that she would die if they could not retrieve her tapestry. She sent her first son off in search of the tapestry, telling him that if he could not find it in a year, he would not see her again alive. A year passed, but the first son did not return. Disappointed, the mother sent her second son off in search of the tapestry, telling him the same as she had told the first son. A second year passed, and the last remaining son watched as his mother’s health and morale continued to fade. The second son did not return.

Finally, the mother sent off her final son, and like his brothers, he promised that he would bring back his mother’s beautiful tapestry. He searched all throughout the mountains, descending into the deepest valleys and ravines and climbing the highest peaks, stopping in villages and farms and asking everyone he saw if they had heard anything about a tapestry of unequaled splendor. Finally, the third son came upon a little cottage nestled in the mountains. Outside, a magnificent horse stood perfectly immobile, as if paralyzed. Curious, he approached the cottage but found that the horse that he had seen from the road was made out of stone. He knocked on the cottage door to inquire about the horse and his mother’s missing tapestry.

Inside, he found an ancient woman living alone. “I know why you are here, my son,” she said to him. “You have come in search of your mother’s tapestry, yes?” He nodded. “Your two brothers have passed by here, asking after the very same tapestry,” she continued. “I told them that I knew how to find it, but it would be a very difficult and dangerous journey. I gave them a choice: either they could learn the whereabouts of the tapestry and promise to undergo the journey, or they could accept a bag of gold and disappear into the village, never to return to their mother. Both accepted the bag of gold. I have not heard from them since. But you, my son, which will you choose?” the old woman asked.

Without hesitation, the third son said he would like to know where the tapestry was. He had no need for wealth, or material success, or towns. He only wanted to see his mother again, happy and healthy.

“Very well,” the old woman said, “I will tell you how to find the tapestry. You must take the horse that stands outside my house and cross three treacherous obstacles, and then you will find the tapestry. You will have to cross a mountain of fire, a mountain of ice, and a stormy sea, and beyond you will come upon a beautiful and golden land, and there you will be able to find the tapestry.”

“You see,” she continued, “when Nature saw your mother’s tapestry, She was jealous of the beauty of the creation. It was so beautiful that Nature sent the Wind to carry the tapestry off so that She could study and reproduce it for Herself.”

“I am ready and willing to go, but your horse is made of stone,” the third son said.

“Yes, he has stood there immobile for so long that his teeth have fallen out and he has forgotten how to eat, and he has turned to stone waiting for someone to take care of him. You must give him new teeth and teach him how to eat, and then he will prove to be the fastest and strongest mare you will have ever seen,” she said.

Straight away, the third son braced himself and knocked out his own teeth and delicately placed them in the horse’s mouth. He then collected grains and placed a bucket just below the stationary horse’s muzzle so the scent would waft into the horse’s nostrils. And just as the old woman had promised, the horse began to shake and tremble and broke out of its stony immobility.

After the horse had eaten and regained its strength, the third son said goodbye to the old woman and set off on his journey. He crossed mountains and valleys until he came upon a black and singed plain. Sure enough, as he crossed the plain he came up on a mountain engulfed in flame. He spurred the sturdy horse on and they sped through the flames of the fiery peaks. Suddenly, the flames died down and the third son saw stretched out before him a shimmering, white field and an icy peak beyond. The third son and the horse skidded across the icy plain and climbed the slippery paths buried in heavy snow. Finally, they emerged from the mountainous winter and found themselves on the banks of an angry sea. Although the third son and his horse were tired and singed and shivering, they plunged into the waves and swam until they thought they would be engulfed by the valleys and peaks of churning water. But the third son and his horse did not drown, and they eventually reached the other shore, where they collapsed, exhausted.

When the third son looked up, he could not believe his eyes. He saw before him the tapestry of his mother: the golden hills where animals pranced and birds sang; the nestled village where a clear stream gurgled; the gardens filled with berry bushes and flowers. And by the clear stream in the quaint village, a golden-haired girl stood alone, looking more like a fawn than a girl. The third son approached her, but he did not have to speak.

“I know why you have come,” she said. “You are looking for your mother’s tapestry. Look what Nature has done with her beautiful pattern!” She motioned to the gilded hills and the crystal liquid of the stream.

“Nature is not quite done yet,” she continued, “but she will be in the morning. Come, walk with me along the stream and then sleep and in the morning you will find your mother’s tapestry.”

The third son walked with the fawn-girl along the stream until the sun set behind the hills. He slept well, and in the morning, he found his world even more beautiful than he had the night before. As promised, the golden-haired girl returned with the tapestry whose absence had so long plagued his mother’s fragile and aged heart.

“Go back to your mother,” she said. “Make her heart glad again. But before you go, let me add something small to her creation.” The fawn-girl took a spool of thread from her pocket and with a slender needle embroidered a little golden figure standing next to the stream onto the tapestry. The third son thanked the girl and set off with his horse to return at last to his mother, mountains and valleys and miles away.

When the third son finally returned to his mother’s house, her smile and the beautiful tapestry illuminated the room of their small house.

“Come, let us lay it outside to better admire its color,” he said.

They lay the tapestry outside the house, and again, a breath of air from the mountains again stirred the fabric. But this time, the tapestry did not fly away. Instead, it seemed to get bigger. It covered the doorway of the little house, and then the whole house, and began to stretch down the street to the village beyond, and then climbed the hills and the mountains beyond. Fruits and flowers bloomed in the gardens and a clear stream gushed from a hidden spring. The mother cried with happiness. She was once again standing in the paradise of her dream!

But something small had changed. Standing by the banks of the clear stream was a golden-haired girl who looked more like a fawn than a girl. She approached them slowly but confidently, and when the third son saw her he ran to her and embraced her. They were married three days later, and they all lived happily ever after.